


Bloody Woman

by Azhwi, LosttotheHoping



Series: Bloody Woman [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mercenaries, Supernatural - Freeform, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 50,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azhwi/pseuds/Azhwi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LosttotheHoping/pseuds/LosttotheHoping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even as an active mercenary, it is rather unusual for your gay partner to bring a woman to the hotel room. And only more so when she's covered in blood and unconscious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Passing By

**Author's Note:**

> This story is co-written with my dear friend Lost.
> 
> As Lost will point out, this isn’t a story, this is role-play. We each take a few characters, throw them into the blender called “fictional life” and see what happens.
> 
> Bloody Woman began with Lost's female character and two of my male characters; a cast of characters from our other stories brought together in a single document. At infancy of a few days, the story had grown and the cast had bloomed out to encompass just over a dozen characters. To my chagrin, most of the characters were mine. To Lost’s chagrin, I named the story after her main character. We both agree, the embarrassment evened things out.
> 
> There is very little editing that has gone into this story. It’s mostly straight interaction: the characters with each other or in the situation they are in. Not much in the way of scenery description.
> 
> I just have to say, both of us are very proud of (and attached to) our characters and their stories. Even just this starting bit has been an incredible journey (BTW, we are now finished with Bloody Woman. I just need to post it)(Sequel is currently underway)(and there's a spinoff for NaNo 2012).

The first rays of sunlight slipped through the slatted blinds on the window, burning into her open eyes in a most uncomfortable manner. Slim, aristocratic fingers flexed, and she slowly sat up, abandoning the attempt at sleep like she had the night before and the night before that. Hazel eyes darted over the pile of things beside her, a few items tossed aside after being dug from her pockets the night before. She was on the floor; beds didn’t suit her, not anymore.

She picked up an almost-empty pack of cigarettes, and tugged one out. The pack was dropped into her lap, forgotten, and she lit the stick in her mouth. The first inhale didn’t make her cough. Smoking hadn’t done that in years.

Briefly, she wondered if the pain in her chest was the result of that. Her lungs could be rotted, and just hanging there useless in her chest.

Then she exhaled, and knew the sheer foolishness of that thought. It didn’t hurt enough…

xXx

Turning over, the man followed the line of warm skin to the soft throat of his guest. Nuzzling for a moment, he lay there enjoying the feeling of a warm body pressed up against his. His bedmate murmured a soft sound of protest and brought an arm up to wrap around his bared waist.

Chuckling low in his throat, he reached up and combed through long golden tresses with his dark fingers and the body next to him arched as his other hand came up to scratch lightly down a toned scarred back.

By the time his lover had twisted around to face him, the murmurs had hitched and progressed into gasps. Perfect white teeth pinned thin pink lips and those shining honey-brown eyes blinked wide awake.

For a moment, he marveled at the contrast his dark chocolate hand on creamy pale skin created. And then his guest sucked in a breath that caused the muscles under his palm to tense and stand out in sharp relief. Long legs, whip-cord hard and as war-torn as his own, wrapped around his hips and surged up.

Groaning, he leaned forward, one hand sliding down to cup that fine ass as the other reached up to support his weight alongside soft sunshine hair.

“Goddamnit, Blondie,” he growled. “You’re addictive.”

His guest smirked up at him and hummed. “Shut up and fuck me already,” he purred in reply.

xXx

“Hey, fucking watch where you’re going, bitch! I almost ran you over!” a furious man yelled out his car window.

She just blinked at him, and looked at her feet, where she’d dropped her half-smoked cigarette. Damn. And that had been her last one.

“You listening to me?” the man demanded, climbing out of his car.

Dark eyes flicked upward, then dragged down along the man’s body. She smiled softly. “Ah, sorry,” she said, conveniently letting her original accent surface. “Don’t s’pose you know where I can get some nice chips ‘round here, do ya? Bit out of my bloody depth in this city… Hey, I’ll buy ya some chips too, you want? If ya can help a lady out?”

His eyes narrowed, and a smirk touched his mouth. He was actually pretty decent looking. But she supposed that was the way most rapists worked. “How about you and I go eat some ‘chips’ back at my place, sweet heart?”

“You have chips? You got fish too?” she asked, perking in that ditzy-airhead manner. “Sure!”

“Sure, fish too,” he said, jerking his head to indicate the car. “Follow me to my magic carpet.”

She beamed. “Thanks, mister! You’re really nice!”

She pretended not to notice the calculating gleam…

xXx

“Hey Tiger!” the blond called from the kitchen. “Where did you stash the cereal this time?”

Rubbing a towel through his close-cropped hair, Svorak emerged from the bathroom in a billow of steam. “Above the stove,” he yelled back, padding out into the hall. “And leave the green box alone!”

Bright laughter was his only reply. “I mean it,” the dark man said, winding the towel up in his hands as he turned the corner to the kitchen.

Christoph was leaning back against the counter, gloriously nude from golden crown to tapping toes; one long line of taut skin and muscle. He almost missed the way the tease hid the small green container behind a lean hip.

And then the bastard had the audacity to flutter his eyelashes at Svorak and grin. “Didn’t touch a thing,” the taller male vowed.

“Uh huh,” Svorak deadpanned, snapping the towel out and catching his lover across the thigh. He grinned as the pale man yelped and jumped away.

xXx

“Nice place, mister,” she whispered, smirking when there was no reply. She stretched up, the paintbrush in her hand sliding red along the wall in a complicated symbol. Behind her, the corpse of her attacker was cooling on the linoleum, but she didn’t care. She’d got what she needed.

Drawing in a slow breath, she exhaled as she drew a tight swirl, finishing and stepping back. Her eyes flickered over the series of symbols circling the room, painted in the blood of a rapist high on the walls. Then she stepped over to the center, and knelt. Her voice echoed out on the walls of the room.

“ _ **Vacuus, vacua, sanguis raptorem. Inanis, inanis. Decerpere obstant. Sequi.**_ ”

The blood seemed to sink into the walls, and her eyes – black, black eyes, like some sort of demonic possession – faded to their normal almost-human color. Something pressed to the back of her head.

“Kon ichi wa!” a deep male voice chirped sweetly. “Sayonara de.” There was the muted ping of a silenced gunshot, and the woman crumbled to the floor.

He chuckled, and stepped over to a red fuel can, leaning down to pick it up… until he heard a sound behind him. Brown eyes widened, and he turned slowly… to see her sitting back up.

xXx

Raising an arm to shade his eyes, Svorak squinted out into the parking lot. “Blond bimbo can’t even decide whether he wants pancakes or sushi,” he mutters darkly. “Well the bitch will just have to live without either.”

Sliding a pair of shades over blue eyes, the mercenary grunted and stalked over to the heavy silver car, the plastic bag holding a few boxes of fish cakes swinging at his side.

Motion to his left had him tensing as he thumbed the locks on the key fob. He tossed the bag in and turned to see two teens dashing through the parking lot: a small female with red hair and a male in a grey hoodie carrying a gym bag.

The two of them darted past him in a blur of colour and panting gasps. Though the wheezing seemed to be more from the boy than the girl because he was chanting as he ran: “Shit shit shit shit shit shit.”

Watching them disappear around a corner, Svorak blinked and shrugged.

When the entire storefront exploded in a blast of heat, glass, and flying shrapnel, Svorak was less amused.

xXx

Shinji Isoto, the most sought after paid assassin, known as simply ‘Shinigami-sama’, paled even further as the pretty brunette before him stumbled to her feet. “Sh-shimatta,” he stammered.

“I hate men,” she muttered, the English accent gone by habit. She glared at him. “They just add up in the body count.”

“W-wait! Wait wait wait,” he yelped, stumbling backwards and dropping the gas can. “Um- um, I can help you out! I can-”

“I don’t  _need_  your help,” she snarled furiously, patting her pocket and drawing out a cigarette pack. She tipped it over, but nothing fell out. “Damn. Empty.”

“I can get you more,” Shinji offered, gulping as he edged closer to the window.

She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, and blinked. Her fingers lifted, gingerly touching the hole in her forehead. “Damn. Well, at least it’s small. Still, now I’m going to have to hide in the sewers for months. Thanks a lot, dick.”

His fingers brushed the sill, and his legs untensed, shifting his weight downward. And he grinned in the cockiest manner he could. “You’re welcome!” he chirped. Her head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise… as Shinji dove out the window.

xXx

The phone barely had a chance to ring before the line picked up. “ _Hello! Mimi’s Delivery Service for erotica!_ ”

Svorak snorted. “You got into the chocolate didn’t you?”

“ _Yep!_ ”

Rubbing a hand over his face, the dark-skinned merc leaned back against some civilian’s car and sighed. “Hey, I’m going to be late. Someone blew up the store.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yeah.” Svorak glanced over the crowd of uniforms and stressed faces. “It was pretty busy too. I wasn’t inside, so I wasn’t in the blast, but I’m still going to be kept here until they take my statement.”

“ _Anyone we know?_ ” The light tapping of a keyboard drifted over the line.

Humming softly, he frowned. “A small female redhead and a teenage boy?”

“ _Oooo_ …”

He couldn’t help it, both his eyebrows swept up at that tone. “What do you mean, ‘ooooo’?”

Christoph tutted him. “ _You really ought to keep an eye on the job board, you know?_ ”

“We’re on fucking vacation, Goldie,” the merc grumbled. “Don’t want to think about work.”

“ _And this is the result; you nearly get taken out by something you should have known was going to happen._ ”

Svorak’s mouth opened… and shut. “Goddamnit.” An amused chuckle emanated from the phone. “Alright, so who was it?”

“ _New pair_ ,” Christoph replied smugly. “ _A Ruby and a Wolf. Girl calls the shots, the guy does the fireworks_.”

“Huh,” Svorak slid his eyes over to the smoking building. “Why the hell would someone want to blow up a grocery store?”

All he got was the verbal equivalent of a shrug. “ _Posting didn’t say_.”

“Bah,” Svorak swung around and propped both elbows on the hood of the car. “Don’t wait up for me then. Fuck, and I bought frozen food too.”

“ _Oh?_ ”

“Yeah, and now–” the grumbling man cut himself off as another motion in his peripheral had his head swinging around. “Hey, hey, hey… What’s up with today?”

“ _Now what?_ ” his blond lover laughed.

“Someone just jumped out a window…”


	2. That Yours?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is she dead?

Shinji fell in a rain of glass, landing on his feet on a car roof, his weight pressing it in on itself. He didn’t stop moving, ducking into a roll to disperse the contact pressure--preventing anything from getting broken--and then rolling off the car into a crouch beside it. He ducked past the vehicle as a nearby commotion drew his attention, and he twisted around to duck behind the corner of the alley.

The single glance he’d taken of the street beyond told him that most attention had been fixed on the opposite side of the street. Except one, some guy on a cell phone. He’d been staring right at Shinji, and  _fuck_ , he’d been noticed!

He peeked around the corner to see that the guy was still watching his way. His gaze lifted toward the window, and he paled. The woman was staring back down at him, hair tugged in front of her face, obscuring it, by the suddenly rushing wind. Why was it so windy? What the hell was up with today?

“ _Shimatta_!” He bared his teeth up at her, and dashed away.

She smiled, and her gaze turned to the other. It was too far a distance for her to read him, but she was still good with body language. The guy must have seen her attacker jump out the window. “What a mess,” she mumbled, and pulled back. Now, to find a manhole, and escape into the sewers...

xXx

Sighing into the phone, Svorak watched the window-jumping guy in a coat sprint away. “Okay, okay,” he muttered into the phone. “You can give me updates on the board from now on.”

“ _Be my pleasure_ ,” chirped the blond in his ear. “ _So you said a guy was jumping from a window?_ ”

“Hmm, hit a car, rolled, and ran off,” the merc confirmed.

“ _Which building?_ ” Tapping of the keyboard again.

“Calloway.”

“ _Huh_.”

“What?”

“ _There weren’t any jobs for that one_.”

Svorak laughed. “You sound disappointed, Goldie.”

“ _Oh, I’ll show you disappointment, Tiger_ ,” Christoph threatened.

“Uh huh. Gotta go. I’ve got a uniform at ten.” The dark-skinned man smirked into the phone. “Laaater.”

Turning, he snapped closed the cell phone as the police officer approached him with a clipboard.  _Ah, the joys of being a civilian for a week_. He sighed, watching as the cop’s eyes took in his buzz cut, the scars, and the dog tags.

xXx

She stumbled along the sewers, arms hanging at her sides. Her body wanted to collapse, but she needed to find a wrong-doer. Shame she’d let that murderer get away. Shame she hadn’t used him to clean up his own mess. It  _hurt_...

Her breath came in short, sharp pants, and  _oh god I want a cigarette_... Rungs... A ladder up. She climbed it, feeling with her soul, the source of her magic. Searching, searching. The sun was setting, when she pushed aside the manhole cover. An alleyway.

She pulled herself up out of it, legs dangling inside as she kept her eyes closed. Searching, searching.

_I hate him, hate him! Why does he_ \--

No.

_It hurts so much... every time, every time--_

No.

_I wish she’d just_ _ **die**_ \--

No!

_Fuck you, too, whore. Oh my god, I can’t wait till I’m out of_ \--

NO.

_Gotta hide it. Hide it from them. No one can know. Know I wrapped my fingers around her throat and squeezed_ \--

A smile curled along her mouth, and her eyes opened.  _Yes_.

xXx

“Two hours. Fuck me.”

The cop had asked question after question. Different variations. Different angles. Repetition. The questioning had only come to a close when the irritated merc scowled, growling out that there was nothing else to add. The cop had a frown to match his own. Neither of them were happy.

As Svorak drove home, he could only grouse to himself. Yes fine; he had mentioned the two that had run past him. The cop had been interested in that. However, he hadn’t mentioned that those two were probably fellow mercs. He liked his skin where it was. Outing another member was the same as outing himself to the entire collective. Not a smart idea.

“A vacation. Just one fucking week. It’s not even the second day.”

And now he was on his way to another part of town to pick up food. Processed or not, he wasn’t trusting fish cakes that had defrosted in the passenger seat half-cooked in the noonday sun. Besides, he had a hankering for steak now.

_Wonder if Christoph would be willing to let me eat off him again today; steak sauce would be fucking hot..._

xXx

Her breathing had slowed significantly, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the bloody steak knife in her hand. Her throat hurt. The boy had panicked when he saw her, bullet hole in her head, like some sort of zombie. He’d tried to take her head off with a meat cleaver, and she’d grabbed the knife out of a knife block and stabbed him.

Over and over, over and over, blood splattering across her face, her arms, her chest. The exhaustion had given way, urged on by the pain, and made her furious.  _HOW DARE HE?!_  Screaming in her head. Maybe some not in her head. Screaming, pleading.  _Please, please, I’ll stop! I’ll stop! I’ll live a good life please!_

Terror gripping her insides, blue eyes so much different from hers, and so much colder. And blood, blood everywhere.

Now she was crouched over him, weight resting on his stomach, blood dripping off the knife onto the once pristine carpet. She could recall his words. “ _Lucy, no_!”

Lucy. Lucy. Lucille.

Her hands shook, even as she stood and searched the room. She tore up a shirt to use to draw the blood symbols. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Lucy. Lucy. Lucille.

He’d killed Lucy. He’d killed Lucy...

Her fingers tightened on the rag in her hand. Lucy. Her ragged breathing hitched, teeth clenched so hard they hurt. Lucy. Lucy...

xXx

Well, he’d bought the steaks, beer, even a bucket of ice cream for a snack. For someone who had literally brought everything but the bacon, he was feeling rather ignored.

Grumbling, Svorak snapped closed the cell phone for a third time. Bitch still wasn’t picking up the line. Not that it wasn’t unexpected. Christoph sounded rather peeved about that afternoon’s window jumper.

The merc rolled his eyes as he cruised into the hotel’s parking garage.  _The job board doesn’t cover everything, idiot._  There were plenty of jobs that didn’t go through their channels. Small personal jobs for one.

The blond just made a point of looking to the collective for all his news, and then got offended when it failed to relay the information he was expecting. It’s completely possible that the jumper from earlier wasn’t an assassin. He’d never seen one dent a car on purpose before.

A few minutes later, the big male was stepping into the elevator, arms shifting to accommodate the various white plastic bags. He had to chuckle to himself.  _God, I feel domestic_.

At least the lift didn’t come with its own inane theme music.

He finally reached his floor and as he stepped out of the steel box, he sniffed. “Oh shit, don’t tell me the package opened.” But when he looked down into the bags, the seals on the steaks were still intact.

_So, why do I smell blood?_

xXx

She lay just down the hallway, a half-ajar door beside her the source of the smell. Not that she didn’t contribute. She was covered in the stuff, splayed out on the floor only three doors down from his door.

She wasn’t moving, hair matted with blood and covering her face, and she wasn’t breathing. At least, not visibly. Her hand was clenched around a torn piece of fabric soaked in blood.

xXx

“Ah, hell.”

There was a dead woman in the hall.

He glanced side to side, but no one else was around, though there was a thumping noise coming from the suite two doors to his right. _Whatever happened wasn’t loud enough to stop those two,_  he thought, then blinked as another voice whimpered. “Okay... Make that three.”

Turning back to the body in the hall, he took a better look at her.

Not dead, he realized. Passed out. Even with all the blood on her, the woman’s cheeks weren’t pale, so not from blood loss. A corner of his mouth hiked up. Covered in someone else’s blood. That always made explanations tricky with the locals.

_Wanna bet this isn’t on the job board?_  he thought smirking, envisioning Christoph’s face.

It looked personal anyway: messy, emotional, unplanned. Obviously unplanned. He rolled his eyes. She was laid flat-out in the middle of hotel hallway after all. Though...

He cocked his head to the side as he observed the path of red smudges. Intentional or not, she had actually avoided the camera hot spots.  _Hm... Well, we all had to start somewhere._

Svorak straightened, nodded once to the unconscious female staining the fancy carpet, and turned towards his own suite.

He tapped on his throat mic and waited for Christoph’s surprised acknowledgement before speaking softly. “Did you know there’s a bloody woman passed out on our floor? And I do mean that in the literal sense.”


	3. Formal Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Names all around!

Shinji stepped around the corner, all casual like and pretty as you please, and came up short. His brows lifted, and he beamed. “Kon bon wa, there, buddy! Been a few hours, hasn’t it?” he asked cheerfully, gaze darting to the unconscious woman. “Aahh, mononoke-san. You found my friend, too. How lucky for me.”

“–and your favourite window jumper is here too,” Svorak continued after a blink. He lifted his finger from the button and watched the male in front of him as his partner started to rant on the line.

“ _Not my favourite–How are there jobs out there that I don’t know of?!_ ”

Shinji eyed the male before him up and down, then the woman again. Her finger twitched. His smile slipped slightly. “Oh dear.” Then he looked up at the male, mind racing, and smiled more. It was forced this time. “Mind if I get my friend there? Probably shouldn’t wait till she wakes, though.”

Pushing his finger back against the button, Svorak muttered, “Shut it,” and Christoph subsided, listening. Stepping to the side carefully, he backed away from both the soaked female and the grinning human bouncing ball. He gestured at the woman. “Your friend. Go for it.”

Shinji nodded. “Much obliged!” he chirped, and took a step.

Her finger twitched again.

Another step, his fingers brushing the weapon under his coat. A third step, and she inhaled softly. A fourth, and he was standing over her, and she exhaled.

“ _ **Duratus**_.”

Shinji stiffened, freezing in place. She slowly got to her knees, staring up at the man, and grabbed the fallen knife from the carpet. But she swayed. “Shit.”

Shinji abruptly jerked back and stumbled, making a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a whimper. “Shimatta!” he hissed. “Mononoke.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” she snarled, leaning against the wall. Her head turned, and she blinked up at Svorak, who was just sort of standing there. “… really?” It was actually more to herself than either of the males in the immediate area.

Svorak just shrugged. “Shit happens,” he sympathized. He tilted his head at Shinji who wasn’t looking happy. “I have dinner plans. And this mess isn’t changing it.”

The woman’s eyes darted from Shinji to Svorak, her safety the first thing in her head. Shinji, who would probably torture her and expose her, or turn her in to that bastard that was hunting her. Or Svorak. Who didn’t care.

“Sorry about the mess,” she replied, to Svorak. “Some men just don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

Svorak’s eyebrows rose. She was polite and collected for someone he pegged as the impassioned murderer. Maybe there was some hope for her yet.

“I,” he said clearly and calmly, “am going to walk the long way to my place. You two can hash things out. Preferably outside. Sound good?”

She smiled at him and staggered to her feet. “Well… no,” she admitted, her free hand automatically patting her pocket for cigarettes. Then she remembered that she was out… “Damn. You don’t happen to have a smoke, do you?” she asked distractedly. Then, “No, not important. You have a vacation to get back to, after all, huh?”

“Obvious huh?” And he thought of Christoph’s reaction to… Slipping one hand into a pocket, and pausing as the guy down the hall moved slightly, Svorak drew out a small pack of smokes. Christoph had wanted to experiment with inhalers. These would have been the precious guinea pigs. Lucky for everyone involved here, he had just been out to buy them and they were still untouched.

Shaking out two, he tossed them over to the woman.

“Cheers.” He smiled and counted down the seconds as he shoved the pack back into one of many pockets of his black cargos.

“ _Svorak… were those my smokes? Did you just give that bloody woman my experiment material?_ ”

He chuckled.

“Thanks,” she said, catching them one-handed, and tucking one behind her ear. Shinji moved, then yelped and dove behind the corner. The steak knife thunked into the wall. “Missed,” she muttered, lighting up. “Tell your friend I’ll pay him back, eh?”

 _Damn, that woman has some fine ears._  Waving a hand, Svorak shook his head. “Don’t bother. He won’t wait that long.” No, the blond would probably take it out of his hide later, but that was alright. The reaction was worth it.

He watched as she swayed slightly on trembling legs, then glanced over at the young man peering around the corner. “Is he really going to give you trouble?”

“Oh, definitely,” she replied, inhaling the smoke. She exhaled and smiled ruefully. “Though I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to play with him for a little while. Sometimes it’s best to play with little boys. They get cranky otherwise…” She turned a smile on Svorak. “The name’s Arana, by the way. Arana Bella.”

One brow raised, Svorak looked at her and actually considered her. “Svorak.” They didn’t have last names anymore.

Another drag preceded her reply. “Nice to meet you.” She exhaled. “You know, if you shoot me, I  _will_  turn you into a toad.”

Shinji actually paused to consider that, glaring at her around the corner. Could she do that? His finger brushed the length of the gun. And how had she done–no, never mind, he was right. She might be some kind of  _demon_. That must be it.

Arana sighed. “Well, if you don’t wanna get involved, kiddo, I suggest you hurry on to your room,” she said to Svorak. “Because I need to… hm. Play.”

 _Toad? Kiddo?_  The merc blinked, and then blinked again.  _Mystic_. Ahh. “Well, watch the smoke detectors.” He nodded again, this time to a standing and conscious woman, then turned for a perpendicular hallway.

She smiled. “Will do, kiddo.” She turned towards Shinji, fingers pressed to the wall to keep her from falling over. “This is gonna suck…” Her bare foot slipped slightly on the carpet, and she stumbled, grimacing.

Shinji jerked back reflexively, finger moving from the trigger, then sighed. He was  _not_ getting paid nearly enough for this shit. Not at all. In fact… “You know what, fuck this shit,” he muttered. “See ya later, mononoke-san!” Demon and money, life and no money. Easy math.

Arana blinked, pausing.  _Oh come on._  She’d been pretending to still be a weak, easy target for fuck’s sake! “Oy!” She darted to the end of the hall, stumbling a bit (or maybe not pretending so much…) and jerked around, watching the elevator doors close. She gaped after him. Was this for real? Had she finally met an intelligent hitman?

She sank to her knees, leaning against the wall, and just stared. What. The. Hell.

Back at the bend of the hall, Svorak leaned against the wall watching the mystic sag to the floor.

“You know, I got ice cream,” he offered, “and my dinner date is currently very grumpy with the world.”

She blinked, and turned her head, staring at him. Then she looked down at herself, covered in blood… “Gotta shower too?”

“Should be fine as long as you don’t judge me by Blondie’s shampoo,” he replied. “Any way you can  _not_  leave a DNA trail to my suite?”

Her mouth twisted thoughtfully. “That reminds me.” She stood and walked back to the open apartment, using the wall to stay on her feet. She tugged open the door, and picked up a pair of  _lime green shoes_  just inside. And put them on, careful not to put them in the blood. “There.” She closed the door. “Erm… Well, that was embarrassing…”

Again, Svorak lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Christoph, we’re having a guest,” he spoke softly, pressing on the button. “Put some clothes on, please.”

“ _Aww… what?_ ”

The merc rolled his eyes, and held out an arm for the lady. For once it wasn’t just for appearance’s sake.

She actually gave him a sincere smile. The gesture brought back fond memories. And took his arm. “Christoph… What a fascinating name,” she murmured thoughtfully.

Coughing a little to cover the sudden laugh, he grinned. “Keep that happy thought,” he advised her, “because very soon ‘fascinating’ is going to turn to ‘aggravating’.” So saying, he adjusted his elbow to better support her and started off on the short route to his suite. “One good thing though, if you say “No” I’ll be able to back that.” He grinned a little wider. It was fun tussling with the blond.

“Good thing,” she replied dryly, as they stopped in front of the door. She shifted slightly, glad she was wearing black, but relaxed when she realized the camera on the wall was just shy of picking her up at this angle.

Humming a random tune, Svorak swiped the card through the reader and the door popped ajar. Pushing it open, he held up a finger for her to wait a second.

“Goldie, you decent?”

There was a snicker right behind the door. “Never,” an amused voice answered. “But, presentable.” The door was swung open, revealing a tall blond man wearing bright orange board shorts and a sky blue Hawaiian shirt.

Svorak groaned. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Arana’s brows lifted, and her eyes flicked up, down and met the blond’s gaze. She smirked. “Making a statement?” she queried.

“It’s a rare opportunity,” he grinned back at her. Taking a step to the side, he swept a hand out in a gallant gesture. “The shower is this way.”

Snorting, Svorak gestured between the blond and the woman. “Christoph, Arana. Arana, Christoph.”

She gave a careful curtsey, before stepping inside so Svorak could close the door. “Pleasure to meet you, Christoph.”

The tall cheerful man nodded. “Though, I do have a question. What  _are_ we going to do about clothing?”

Svorak blinked. Right. He glanced down and caught Arana’s amused expression. “Did you have an exit plan for today? A pack somewhere?”

“Nope,” she replied. “Actually, never do… Was just gonna go back out the way I came.”

The two males exchanged amused looks. “That is an exit strategy,” Christoph agreed. “I do have a few shirts that would probably hit you at the knees. I have shorts obviously,” he paused at his partner’s grunt, “or you can use his.”

She smiled at the offer, ignoring the teasing. “Whichever works. Thank you for your kindness, and sorry for the trouble.” She glanced over his shoulder. “Now… the shower…”

The blond flashed her a brilliant grin and lead the way to the washroom. Svorak left his shoes at the foyer and tucked the food away, leaving the carton of smokes out on the table. Then he went back to the entrance with a few cloths and a bottle of ammonia.

It was going to be an interesting vacation.


	4. Preferred Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night time memories and social drinking.

There was the ticking of a clock somewhere in the dark room. The woman who lay on the couch was alone. The others, thinking her asleep, had left for the bedroom of the suite three hours previously, and only settled to sleep a bit ago.

Her eyes stared up at the ceiling.  _Sleep_ , she thought.  _Just sleep_. But, like the night before, the night before that, and so on… sleep wasn’t forthcoming. There was sometimes a mind-numbing nothingness, her brain almost shutting down completely… but she couldn’t sleep. Her eyes were trained on the ceiling.

_Tick, tick, tick_ …

She tried to think of something else, besides her lack of ability to sleep. The police had eventually come by, asking if they’d heard anything. And, like everyone else, nothing (except a lady down the hall, who remembered the sound Arana’s knife made as it thunked into her wall, but the knife and all evidence of it ever existing were gone, so the police just scratched their heads).

_Tick, tick, tick_ …

She drew a slow breath, and tensed at the sound of movement. Then there was the sudden, almost blinding light of the fridge just ten feet away being opened (a mini-fridge, with a random assortment of food). She flinched away instinctively, a hand lifting to cover her eyes.

_Tick, tick, tick_ …

“Oh shit!” Christoph muttered softly. The fridge door snapped closed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, kiddo,” she muttered hoarsely. “I was awake. Nightmare.” The lie fell from her lips almost too easily, unrehearsed but as natural as breathing. When had she turned into such a creature?

“Hmm.” He paused, looking out the window before asking, “Feel like company?” He paused again and then waved his hand before she could reply. “I mean for talking. Er, sorry, females aren’t my area.”

She chuckled. “Even if they were, I doubt I would be,” she replied, teasingly, and sat up. “Sure, we can talk. Plenty of time.”

“Oh good. It gets boring staring at the curtains this time of night,” he replied delighted. “Drink? Ice cream?”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. “A drink would be nice, thank you.”

“Excellent. I have a red wine, a dark and a light beer, and I believe some kind of whiskey,” Christoph rose from his crouch by the mini fridge and moved towards the kitchen. “Preferences?” he asked from the doorway, features wide and smiling and didn’t even flinch when there was a thud from the bedroom.

“Goldie! That’s  _my_  whiskey!”

“Damn, guess the whiskey’s out,” Arana replied with a pout. She’d been about to say whiskey. “Dark beer, then.”

“Nonsense.” The blond frowned and strode over to the bedroom, popping open the door and glaring inside. “ _You_  gave her my smokes. So  _you_ will share your whiskey.”

“But…”

Christoph shut the door on his lover’s soft whine, though he knew both of them were smiling. “On the rocks?” he directed back to the amused woman on the couch.

“Sure, kiddo,” she replied. “That sounds delightful. Haven’t had whiskey in nearly… well, a while.” She’d almost said twenty years.

Waving a hand, the tall pale man vanished into the kitchen, now talking at a regular volume. “I never drink the stuff. I don’t know why Svorak hordes it. You should see his stash! All types of bottles. Half of them aren’t even opened!”

There was a shuffling noise and Svorak ambled out of the bedroom bare-chested, scratching a hand over his scalp. He yawned. “Well, since we’re all up,” he muttered. “Gimme a glass.” He nodded at Arana and padded over into the kitchen. There was a yelp from the blond and a snort from the darker skinned man. Then the sound of an ice-cube falling and skittering over the floor.

Arana smile softened slightly, as she stared down at her lap. Memories… Always came at night. She shook her head and chuckled. “Mm, you know, I used to know a guy that had a place entirely made for different kinds of alcohol. He was always drunk, so he never knew it was called a ‘warehouse’…”

There was a low chuckle from the kitchen. “Sounds like my dad’s basement,” said Svorak from the kitchen doorway. “But he liked to share.” He moved into the living-room on quiet feet, nudging a round cardboard coaster to her side of the coffee table before placing her glass down. As he seated himself on the carpet on the opposite side, his lover emerged from the kitchen with two dark beers, one opened one still sealed.

“Just in case you take a sip of that and come to your senses,” the blond man teased, folding himself down onto the floor as well. The beers were set down on more coasters with dull taps.

Svorak snorted. “Oh shut up, Blondie.” And took a slow swallow of liquid amber.

She smiled at them. “You two are cute, you know,” she commented, and sipped the drink. “Oh… That’s nice…”

The taller man looked torn between snickering and frowning in disappointment. Svorak just smirked and gently nudged his partner in the ribs with a bare foot. “She’s entitled to her opinions,” he said smugly.

Sighing, the pale man shook his head and tipped back his own drink, though his lips tilted up. Though after a moment, he blinked and sat up. “That reminds me.” He turned to her. “Could I convince you to swap the cigarette? I noticed there are two missing from the pack, and you had one on your ear. I assume you smoked one in the hall at your job site.”

Her brows lifted, but she shrugged. “That’s fine,” she said boredly.

Svorak watched as the other male rolled to his feet. “You’re giving her the other brand?” he asked, a slight edge to the question.

“Still factory sealed, you paranoid git,” the blond assured him as he stepped into the kitchen. “Too many variables anyway.”

With a huff the darker man slouched back to the carpet. “Scientists,” he muttered.

“I used to be a doctor, does that count?” Arana asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.

Svorak blinked as Christoph walked back in. “Chemist,” the tall man retorted, then frowned at the lack of response. “What did I miss?”

The merc on the floor shook his head. “Mystics,” he grumbled in much the same tone as earlier. Sure, the young woman on the couch could have been a doctor before… in a past life.

Her eyes danced in amusement. “So, you’re a chemist, mm?” she asked, turning her attention back to Christoph. “You like making things blow up too?”

Pale brows quirked. “Only on the cellular level.”

Dark brows drew down. “Too?”

She looked at him. “Yes, too. As in ‘also’,” she replied blandly. “Chemists deal with chemicals… and sometimes like blowing things up too.”

Svorak scowled, then grunted as Christoph cheerfully kicked him in the hip. “You can’t possibly get grumpy now old man,” the taller one teased. “You chose to get up.”

“Thirty-four is not old.” Sprawled out over the plush carpet, the other man huffed and offered her a sheepish smile. “Eh, sorry. Me and mystics,” he shrugged one shoulder, “don’t usually get along.”

“That’s an understatement,” the blond muttered, silently grateful that Svorak had put down his glass before falling over. The alcohol was a pleasant warmth, but it distracted him a bit. And a topless lover was even more of a distraction.

“Aah. Then I suppose you’ll be happy to hear that I’m not a mystic,” she replied blandly. And then let them chew on that one.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Svorak frowned at her. Now he just felt like an idiot. He had actually thought she was serious about the turning to toads thing. Huh. He turned his blue eyes to his lover and was met with a rueful smile.

Lifting up his bottle, Christoph toasted the woman on the couch. “Well played, Lady,” he said warmly, his eyes sliding over to Svorak. “It does explain the easy camaraderie.”

Sighing, the black man sat up, snagging his glass and mimicked his pale partner. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve been had. Shut it.”

She chuckled and lifted her own glass in reply. “Cheers,” she replied, amused, and chugged the rest of it. Setting down the glass, she beamed. “Don’t suppose you’d let me have more?”

Christoph laughed outright at the pained grimace that flashed over Svorak’s features. “Yes,” he answered for his partner.

The poor man grunted and stood up, holding out his hand for her glass. “I’ll do the pouring this time. Blondie will probably find a way to drain half the bottle into a tumbler otherwise.”

She smiled. “Thanks,” she replied. “Next time I’m in England, I send you a bottle of Scottish Black. It’s lovely whiskey.”

Tilting his head to the side, Svorak hummed noncommittally. “That’s one I haven’t tried before.” It was left unsaid that it wasn’t likely addresses would be exchanged. That was another thing they didn’t have anymore. It wouldn’t stop him from keeping an eye out for that brand though.

Deftly lifting the glass from her hand, the male padded back into the kitchen.

“You sure you won’t switch to the beer?” the other man wheedled, holding up the unopened bottle.

“Does it burn going down?” she asked sweetly.

This time the pained look was on the blond’s features. “Nope. But if you want burning, get Svorak to make curry. That’s the proper kind of burning.”

“Meh,” was the disinterested response. “I’ll try it,” she relented, referring to the beer.

Encouraged, despite the less than enthusiastic response, Christoph popped the cap from the beer and handed it over just as Svorak walked back into the room.

The darker man just smirked and walked over, watching her face on the first sip. Switching from his stuff to Goldie’s? Not all that exciting.

She carefully did not grimace. It tasted flat in comparison. “It’s okay,” she said.

Chuckling, Svorak leaned down and slapped his lover on the shoulder. “Give it up,” he advised the disheartened chemist, handing Arana the refilled tumbler at the same time. He took the beer back from her and placed it in front of his partner. “Look at it this way,” he began, taking his seat on the floor. “You get all the beer,” he nodded at the barely touched brew, “and she and I will drain away the whiskey that you hate.”

All he got was the woeful look of a kicked puppy.

“Oh, we are? I will take you up on that offer, then,” Arana inserted smoothly.

The kicked puppy look quickly melted into the brightest smile this side of night as Christoph beamed at her. Svorak on the other hand looked like he had  _swallowed_ a toad.

She grinned back at the blond, amused greatly.


	5. A ‘Normal’ Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things go normal, the strange people get antsy. Solutions to boredom vary.

“Okay. Now I’m bored.”

Christoph raised his head from the various jars on the kitchen table to give his partner an amused but tolerant smile.

“No.”

Resting his chin in an upraised palm, the blond lifted a brow.

“Ugh, no. Maybe…?” Brief motions of hands through air.

The chemist smirked.

“Right never mind. Where did you find shorts that bright?”

Very calmly, the pale man lifted a pipette and added four amber drops to a clear mixture and watched the brew swirl into viscous indigo.

Blue eyes narrowed. “I remember that colour.”

Christoph lowered the tool and picked up a pair of tongs, and fished around in a jar for a small crumb of metal.

“Goldie… What are you doing?”

Finding such a piece, the blond carefully maneuvered the bit of material over the mouth of the jar where the liquids were still stirring and changing.

“Okay, I apologize.” A mad scramble, the fridge opening, a beer opened and placed oh so cautiously at his elbow. “It was rude to tell you to shut up at that time. Beer is definitely for finer tastes. Arana definitely needs to try this again.”

One corner of the blond’s mouth quirked up and he lifted the metal shard away from the brew.

It didn’t matter if Svorak got bored. He always found ways to amuse himself.

xXx

Arana stared at the wall of the bleak diner, but she wasn’t really seeing it. She was just very bored. Bored… yes, bored…

Her mind strayed back toward the two boys she’d met the other day. Briefly, she wondered if they were still in that hotel. She smirked and got up.

xXx

“Are you going to talk to me now?”

The blond tilted his head.

“You already got two apologies.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, one verbal apology and one blow job. Still!”

Fine golden brows quirked.

“Dinner and top?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Svorak snorted.

xXx

Her eyes narrowed in concentration, then widened. “Ah-ha!” She snatched up the bottle, smiling brightly. “I knew it! Imported. Heh. These youngsters.”

An old man gave her an odd look, but she ignored it, paid for the whiskey, and left the shop.

xXx

“Would you two like to see the dessert menu?”

“We’d love to,” the chemist said in saccharine tones. Honey-brown and ice-blue eyes watched as the corners of the waiter’s eyes flinched. They watched as the man pressed his lips together, placed the menu down on the table and marched away.

Svorak snorted. “I guess one of the managers got to him.”

His date rolled his eyes. “Probably.” After all, the man’s manner  _had_ been blatantly offensive.

“Well, what do you feel like?” the other man asked, picking up the small menu. “There’s mousse, pie, more fluffy stuff, cake, ice cream, chocolate fondue, and brownies.”

Christoph let his eyes half close, and gave the chocolate man across from him a smoldering look. “The fondue. To go.”

Svorak blinked. Then blinked again. “Oh shit, I’m bottoming tonight.”

There was a crash of a plate to the side as their waiter abruptly turned and strode away from the table beside them.

“Yes, yes you are.”


	6. Say Goodbye, Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People come and go. It's just how life is.

When they returned to the hotel, the door was weighed oddly, an odd resistance that was felt as it swung open. Something crinkled and thunked against it. A small gift bag, containing something inside.

She smirked, watching the empty doorway. A moment passed before a dark hand reached through and tugged the bag off the knob. She already knew what the note said: ‘ _Enjoy. -xx-_ ’.

The two men blinked at the note. Christoph looked at Svorak who held his hands up. “I encouraged the alcohol, not the kissing,” he vowed there at the door.

She stifled the urge to laugh.

“Hmm,” the taller man replied, pulling out the clear bottle with the dark amber contents.

“Whoa.” That would be the other male.

“Fifty years.” The blond sounded grudgingly impressed.

“Whoa.” And Svorak was still speechless.

She was clutching her stomach from laughing so hard, but she didn’t make a peep. They still hadn’t seen her. Aahh, kids.

“You know what you need to do right?”

“Whoa-huh? Uh, oh geez now?” There was a thwap. “Yeah, okay, okay.” Svorak’s voice trailed off.

There was a single snicker, Christoph striding into view, alone, and quite cheerful.

“And here I half expected you to be naked,” she drawled.

“Whoa!” the blond yelped, jumping back at least a foot, bags and boxes clutched in his arms. “Arana!” he gasped. “Don’t do that!”

Her brows lifted. “You really expect me to believe you didn’t know I was here?”

The juvenile actually stuck his tongue out at her. “I had my doubts,” he sniffed heading for the kitchen. The shuffling of various items into the proper places took a bare half a minute before he emerged again, smiling broadly. “How have you been? And I’m sure Svorak will thank you for the bottle.”

“Mm. I’ve been alright,” she replied, waving a bandaged hand dismissively.

Raising a brow at the neat swaths of fabric, Christoph walked over. “Well, you are alive,” he allowed. “May I take a look?” He gestured at her wrist.

She frowned faintly. “It’ll heal,” she mumbled reluctantly, but when he started to pout, she sighed and held out her arm.

Taking a seat next to her on the couch, he supported her arm with one hand as the other unwound the bandages. Blond brows snapped down as the long raw sections of burnt flesh was revealed.

“I don’t have to guess why you gifted us with alcohol now,” he muttered, eyeing the extent of the damage.

Behind him, the door lock beeped again, and the other male stepped through the doorway, with the rustle of yet another bag. “Got the last one,” Svorak called out in triumph. There were two thunks as he left his shoes on the linoleum.

“Yes, yes. Good,” Christoph murmured.

“Goldie?” Svorak rounded the corner, smiling as he saw them. “Oh hey—oh fuck.”

The blond hummed as he carefully curled his torso down to examine the burns on the inner forearm. “Could you get the med kit?”

The darker male nodded to Arana and strode off towards the kitchen.

She sighed softly.  _Should have gotten the long-sleeved shirt_ , she thought uncharitably. “I’ll be fine, you know. I’m not some little girl.”

“Not a little girl, no,” the tall man agreed readily enough, “but you are damaged and you are here. And if we are to get any kind of relaxed drinking done tonight, I want you at least properly dressed.”

He blinked once and lifted his gaze from her damaged skin to her eyes. “If I give you painkiller, you will be more susceptible to alcohol,” he reminded her as his partner stalked back into the living room, a familiar red case swinging from one hand.

Her eyes were empty. “I don’t take painkillers,” she replied blankly. “But thanks for the offer, kiddo.”

Both men paused, almost identical frowns pulling at their features. “Alright,” the blond replied, reaching a hand out to Svorak as the other man slapped disinfectant and several swabs into his open palm. “Are you up for something to drink then?” he offered as he sat back, still holding her arm, with a lap full of medical supplies.

She sighed, relaxing, and her expression softened. “Yes, I’m sorry. Thank you very much for caring for me,” she murmured. “I know you don’t have to.”

Behind him, Svorak snorted and straightened up from leaning over table, med kit, and shoulder of his partner. “Don’t apologize until after treatment. Christoph has the worst bedside manner I’ve ever experienced,” he warned, heading back to the kitchen.

The blond smirked, eyes glinting. Leaning forward, he whispered, “Seriously, all I did was deny him the dinosaur bandages once, and he gripes about it forever after.”

She laughed softly. “You kind of remind me of Lu-” She stopped. “Someone I knew.” Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “Dinosaur bandages?” She looked over at Svorak who was already returning.

Blue eyes narrowed on the chemist. “He claimed they didn’t have any T-rexs left. I found out later that he was keeping them for one of the kids. I had to make do with yellow chick ones.” He handed her a glass three-quarters full of dark gold and Christoph took the beer from the fingers of his other hand. “Bottom’s up,” the dark man said, clinking his glass with theirs.

She smiled and chugged. “You guys mind if I smoke?” she asked after lowering her glass.

“Go for it,” was her answer from Svorak, while Christoph took a firmer grip on her fingers, raising her arm up again. “Brace yourself,” he murmured, before placing the first swab to her open wound.

On her other side, Svorak caught her eye and lifted a lighter. “Alright, so what brand did you pick up?” he asked firmly.

Her eyes darted to his face, and the lighter, but she said nothing, teeth clenched so hard they ached. But that was nothing in comparison to her arm.

The swab dabbed, moved, dabbed,  _pushed_ , lifted away, and set fire to already abused nerves.

The man with bright blue eyes lowered the lighter and frowned at her. “Breathe, Arana.”

At the same time, Christoph lowered the swab and took his time browsing for the next one to pick up.

She bared her teeth at him silently. No need to tell him that not breathing wouldn’t kill her.

“Really. Breathing helps. It gives you something else to think about.”

She snorted. “I could think about other things,” she said, ending with a hiss of pain. “Like Elizabethan torture methods. How fast it takes to dismember a human corpse.” She winced. “How long a heart beats when it’s been ripped out.”

One dark brow rose. “Alright. We can talk about the fastest way to clean up a blood spill. Which smells worst: rotten blood or freshly spilled entrails? How long broken fingers can stay untouched before they are useless for good. Which causes more pain: broken bones or missing limbs?”

Christoph had already started in on the second swab. Barely a quarter of the way done.

She paused, wincing, mind darting over the answers. “Some say it’s missing limbs, because the phantom pain is the worst. Others claim broken bones, because it’s still there.” Her fingers of her free hand curled into the fabric beside her, clenching tightly. “I remember that, from a conference my father made me go to, when my brother was in school. I wasn’t supposed to go, because I was a woman, and women shouldn’t be doctors.”

There was a huff of derision from the male at her elbow and a roll of eyes from his dark-skinned counterpart. “The medical field is based on mental ability, not physical strength. Unless you count eyesight as a strength,” Christoph muttered, putting down the swab and straightening for a moment.

Svorak shook his head and offered her the second glass.

She accepted it, and chugged it down like the first. “That’s why they never caught me,” she replied, voice a whisper.

Behind her, the blond chuckled. “Always the case. Makes me sometimes wish I was born a woman.”

Rising to his feet, Svorak snorted. “You’d be a damned awkward woman, Goldie.” He took both glasses and frowned for a moment. “Eh,” he muttered, putting them down on the table and striding over to the kitchen, only to return with a bucket of ice, a spare tumbler, the bottle of Black, and  _another_ bottle.

Setting the new bottle down on the table, he turned it so the label faced her.

“Brandy,” Christoph announced smugly. “There’s something that  _should_  burn.”

Svorak rolled his eyes. “Fucking hypocrite.”

She chuckled. “That looks lovely. Have you tried the Black yet, Svorak? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I did take a sip of that other glass.” Svorak tilted his head in a half bow. “It’s delicious. Thank you.” One shoulder came up in a shrug. “You looked like you needed it more than me.”

“Keep him on his toes enough, and you may just have him wrapped around your pinky,” Christoph chuckled as his lover scowled.

“I’m just being polite, you ass,” the other male muttered as he poured out the brandy into one of the glasses. “Arana? Brandy or whiskey?”

“Yes,” she replied promptly.

There was a choked laugh from behind her as the blue-eyed male smirked. “That’s a woman,” he praised her, filling the other two glasses with the Black. He handed the brandy to her first.

She smiled faintly and sipped it. “I think you might be spoiling me,” she mused. “Not that I’m complaining, mind. And I think I’m also getting tipsy…” She paused. “No, not yet, never mind.”

Svorak’s brows arched. “Have you eaten anything today? And watch it, Blondie’s picking up another swab.”

She stiffened. “Um, eaten…? No. Not since…” She paused, wincing, and thought back. “Oh, since I was here. Imagine that. Oh, wait, no, I had an apple yesterday.”

Christoph dropped the swab into the plastic bag. Svorak took the last glass of alcohol away, thought better of it and ordered, “ _Sip_ this one.” Then he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Oh,  _now_  you’ve done it,” the chemist chuckled at her side. “Let’s take a break for a moment. I want that brandy.”

She blinked at him. “Done what?” she asked, sipping obediently.

The clank of a pan on a stove, the slam of cupboards, and the opening of the fridge were her answer.

The pale man in a contrast, leaned back into the cushions of the couch, motioning her to do the same. He still supported her injured arm. “He’s cooking.”

Arana smiled at that. “Oh, he can cook? Well! I can’t. Never have been able to. I can look at water wrong and burn it.”

“Well, that just means I won’t be showing you my chemistry kit…” He hummed for a moment. “Tiger can cook, yes, but only certain dishes. Other ones, those are hit or miss.” The male brought up his glass to rock from side to side. “And then there are the times that he decides to experiment.” Christoph grimaced. Meatballs and blackberry jam and bell peppers. That had been a rather odd dinner.

“I can hear the culinary-horror vibes from here,” Svorak called out from the kitchen. “Are you telling stories?”

“No, he’s telling history,” she retorted, and laughed. She turned her gaze onto Christoph and smiled. “You know, you remind me of someone… Your hair reminds me…”

His own gaze was wry and understanding. “It happens,” he said with a small shrug. He glanced down at his glass and then back up at her. “One more swab and I can wrap it up. Are you ready?”

She shrugged. “It’s just pain,” she replied unthinkingly. “It can only hurt.”

Her medic nodded. “True enough.” He placed his glass back down on the table. “Are you going to hold on to that?” He looked pointedly at her drink.

“Oh.” She held it out. “Better not.” Her gaze flickered toward the kitchen, where there was the sharp sound of a pan sliding over a burner.

Christoph merely hummed and transferred her glass from her hand to the table. “Alright, last bit.”

Over in the kitchen, Svorak was considering turning the heat up higher, but decided against it. The vegetables were half done, the pork chop was ready if she liked it half raw. Maybe a soup. Salad? No. Soup. Bread instead of crackers.

He pulled out another pot for the soup. Tomato? Sure. Svorak shook his head. They were going to give the girl alcohol poisoning before she even healed. Brilliant.

The last swab was tossed into the bag and both woman and man breathed a little easier.

“I’m putting a layer of cream on this, it’s for healing and it also numbs the nerves a little. If anything, it helps with the chafing.” Christoph dipped his gloved fingers into the balm and arched a brow at her. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Go on.” She watched him as he spread the salve, frowning faintly, thoughtfully.

The cream spread in a blissful cool tingle. The container itself was kept in the fridge, so it was little wonder if felt so good. In a few efficient swipes, the burns were covered, and Christoph finished with layers of gauze, taping the whole mess down.

“Finally,” he breathed out and handed her the whiskey again. “Now you can have your alcohol.”

There was a grunt from the kitchen. “After she eats,” Svorak contradicted his partner, striding towards them with a big bowl of soup and bread. “That’s the appetizer, there’s still a main course and dessert. Eat up.”

Christoph chuckled as he moved to clear the table. Once the med kit was removed, Svorak unloaded the tray, then turned on his heel and marched back into the kitchen.

“Hmm… He can be a little bossy,” the blond commented.

She quirked a brow and shrugged. “I’m not complaining,” she replied pointedly. “Now either move or gimme some food.”

Choking on a laugh, the tall man rose from the couch. “Surrounded!” he declared chuckling.

“More like in the way,” Svorak growled from behind him. “Move your white ass.”

Grinning ear to ear, Christoph stepped to the side as the other man moved through his vacated space, bringing out the meat and greens, a tall glass of ice water, and the utensils.

“Need anything? Pepper, salt, napkins?” he asked as the fare was placed on the table.

“Nope,” she replied, snatching up a plate and a fork. “But this looks very very very good for the starving lady. Thanks a heap.”

“Equal trade for the bottle of Black,” the black man demurred as he sat back with a glass of the aforementioned whiskey.

“Indeed,” agreed Christoph.

The two men sat leaning against each other keeping a low tone of conversation, and though Arana was welcome to join in, she was encouraged to eat more than talk.

She got about halfway through (everything), before she paused and eyed them. “You two better be eating too,” she said, brows lifting, and looked at the blond. “Especially you.”

He mirrored her expression. “Why me?”

Svorak started to chuckle.

“Because you’re too skinny,” she replied promptly.

“I am not.”

The shorter man took the time to reach over and put his drink on a coaster, before letting out a snicker.

She set down her fork and frowned at him, crossing her arms as she sat up. “I have whipped five-year-olds with more meat on their bones than you. Now eat.”

“I assure you, we, the both of us, have already eaten a rather large meal before hand,” he returned frostily.

His partner on the other hand stretched out onto his back with a huge grin. “Those must have been some chunky-ass toddlers!” he put in from the plush-carpeted floor.

She smiled. “Just teasing. Don’t be so serious,” she said, amused, and went back to eating.

Svorak let out a final snort before leaning over to pull his lover to the carpet. Openly amused, he leaned over the taller man’s torso. “Admit it, Goldie. She pegged you down good."

“Hush,” the chemist retorted, glancing away. The darker man smirked and placed a loud kiss on his ear before picking up his dropped (and thankfully empty) glass and retreating.

Eventually, Arana chuckled and got up. “I should get going, before you boys have an accident.” It was impossible to tell if she was actually joking or not. “Enjoy the liquor… and thank you, both. For the meal, and the care. I probably won’t see you again.”

Puppy eyes from the blond, a nod from the other. Both expressions washed away in dual expressions of acceptance. “That’s the way it is,” Svorak acknowledged even as Christoph sighed and stood, holding out a hand. “Pleasure knowing you, Arana.”

She smiled, and took his hand. “Pleasure knowing you, as well, Christoph. Svorak. Keep that pretty hair, boyo.” She winked. “It suits you.”

Grinning, Svorak surged to his feet and shook her hand as soon as Christoph released it. “As if he’ll let anything happen to that mop of his.” Then he sobered. “Take care of yourself. And if you need help, post on the job board.” He rolled his eyes towards his partner who nodded.

The blond pulled out a business card from a pocket in his jacket.

A small smirk graced Svorak’s dark features. “If anything, Christoph could use it to further justify his dependence on that hulk’s existence.”

“Blasphemer,” Christoph muttered with a smile.

“Goodbye Arana. Take care.”

She gave them both a kiss on the cheek, and smiled. “Take care, yourselves, kiddos.” She turned on her heel and walked out the door.


	7. Searching for Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pick on one... face the others.

_Two years later, August 13th, Friday, Gulf of Mexico_ …

She slipped in and out of consciousness. Pain was the only steady thing. Pain the color of red, and  _God, why won’t you let me die_? A pained sob, stifled quickly. Gasping breaths.

 _Left her here_ …

Left her here. All alone. “ _God, let me die, please let me die_ ,” she whimpered.

It was all a blur. There was another assassin, sent by some person she’d pissed off. And unlike the others, he was neither thorough, nor particularly concerned with a quick end. He’d knocked her out, and nailed her to the wall with a nail gun. Jesus style, for the hands at least.

If she’d been able to think past the pain, she would laugh at the irony. Her arms ached, and she swore the holes tore larger every second.

And then noise. Noise.  _He’s come back_. “Finish me off, you ugly little fuck,” she snarled, but the room was empty. Empty, and so loud in its silence.

At the voice over the radio, Christoph nearly lost his balance and tumbled off the rock he was crouching on. “Tiger?”

Svorak was prone, stretched out on salt-slick rock and staring straight ahead. “ _Baba, you remember when you treated Bloody Woman’s burns?_ ”

“Yes.”

“ _Looks like you’ve got a bigger job to deal with this time._ ”

“Shit. I don’t have… Doesn’t matter. What’s her status?”

“ _Nailed to a wall, looks like_.”

“And she’s still alive. Holy shit.”

“ _Yeah. I’m going in, I’ll let you know if there’s any mines by setting them off. Cheers_.”

Svorak lifted his finger off the mic button and sighed. Pursing his lips, he flipped a pebble down to through the gap in the warehouse wall. It pinged off the pitted metal about three feet from her left arm.

‘Bloody Woman’ indeed.  _We didn’t need you to live up to the name again_.

She flinched. “FUCK YOU!” she shrieked, and subsided into tiny gasping sobs.  _Fuck._  She was going to pass out again…

Shaking his head, Svorak rapelled down the side of the cliff and secured his line before leaning in through the torn section of wall. “Honestly, woman, if you had wanted sex that badly, you could have just called me,” he called down softly.

She blinked slowly, and lifted her head, tipping back as far as it would go. “… kiddo…?” she whispered, and coughed out a laugh. “I’d think heaven, but that’s not my final destination. Must be one of those coincidental rescues, huh?”

A sad chuckle rippled down the warehouse walls. “We work with what we have,” he replied. “No more screaming okay? I’m coming down to secure the area, then we’re getting you out.” He scanned the floor as he spoke, watching for wires or hidden triggers. Fucking sand.

She coughed again, lowering her head as the black approached again. “… Chris… here?” she mumbled, fighting unconsciousness.

“Goldie is here, yeah. We’ve got two new teammates for you to meet. Real kiddos.” Svorak magnanimously ignored the burst of crackling static on his radio. “Eh… teens.”

He dropped another pebble on the floor below him and touched down after a tense moment. “Hmm. What do you think? Any traps in the floor? It’s a wet rusty kind of world you’ve got here.”

“He was an amateur,” she mumbled. “Just big… lucky…” She peered at him. “I’m gonn… pass… out… soon…”

Looking over at her hands and the way she hung from them, Svorak blinked back the white swell of rage. He unclipped the rope from his harness, said a quick prayer, and strode along the wall towards her. Reaching her in seconds without mishap, he reached out and gently touched her cheek as he touched the button on his mic.

“Area secured, path by the wall is clear. Someone get over here and help me get her down.” He let go of the wire, but didn’t lift his other hand. One corner of his mouth hitched up. “Passing out might be a good idea. Getting you down is going to black you out anyway.”

“Dead weight,” she mumbled. “Don’t forget the locket. It fell… s’on the floor.”

Dark brows snapped down and he took his eyes off her only to look at the sand at her feet. There, half hidden by crumbled granules of rock, was a small round piece of jewelry. Bending down, he lifted the piece and its chain up to show her. “Is this it?” The locket rested in his palm, before her eyes. Already he could hear another two members of their team coming into through the wall, but he didn’t care.

She smiled slightly. “Lucy…” Her eyes slid closed, and she sagged, finally unconscious.

“What a woman,” he sighed, dropping the jewelry into a vest pocket. Arana’s clothing was torn to rags, her body streaked with her own blood this time.

“Bloody Woman, huh?” the younger voice of Wolf came from his left. “This is going to be brutal for her.”

“Wolf,” Ruby warned as she gazed up at the nails through Arana’s palms. “I’ve got the cutters; let’s get her down.”

Up on the cliffs, Christoph gritted his teeth and kept his post, even as his radio relayed the wailing screams as headless nails were dragged through shattered bones and dislocated arms were brought back to proper alignment.

“Rookie is going down,” he swore.

“ _Amen_ ,” Svorak answered. “ _Rookie is going down_.”


	8. Enter the Mother Hens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injured but not alone and not without help.

_She’s just laying there, that baby in her arms. They have glassy eyes, like the dolls that sit on Elizabeth’s dresser in her day room. The mother’s lips are painted, just like those dolls. The baby is swaddled in clothing… Liza can’t stop crying. Crying her heart out._

Arana’s eyes snapped open, to the feeling of gentle fingers brushing over the back of her hand. Her fingers wrapped around a wrist automatically, and her gaze flicked down to meet calm topaz eyes. She relaxed. “Hey kiddo,” she croaked. “You look like shit.”

Thin lips crooked up into a smile. “I probably do. But now, we can tell Svorak to cook us up a meal and we can both eat until we're fat.” He reached over to the side table and brought out a cup with a spoon. He transferred the cup to his pinned wrist and used his free hand to bring out an ice chip. “Open up lady; you need water.”

She made a face. “Fine, but no food,” she muttered, stomach rebelling slightly at the very thought. “I wouldn’t be able to keep it down right now anyway.” Her grip on his wrist relaxed, and she let him give her some of the ice, sighing. Her eyes almost slid closed at the cool feeling, but then they opened just as quickly as the first time. “Lucy. Where’s Lucy? The locket. You didn’t forget it, did you?” she demanded, starting to sit up.

“You have it,” the tall blond assured her, half rising from his seat. “Here.” He took two fingers and pressed down on a spot below her throat, but instead of the warm pads of his fingers, she could feel the warm smooth pressure of metal. “I can get a mirror if you want to be sure,” he offered.

She relaxed. She’d know that feeling anywhere. “No, I believe you,” she muttered, laying back down with a grimace. “Where’s Svorak?” She glanced around, seeing that they were in a hotel room (somehow, she wasn’t surprised), and alone.

Relaxing himself back into his chair, Christoph glanced down into the cup and shrugged. “Chasing down a few leads,” he said and then sighed. “We’ve both been watching the boards for you,” he admitted. “That’s why we got this job.”

She blinked at him, expression one of numb confusion. “Eh? Oh, well. You’ll be happy to know that no one of Shinigami’s caliber has come after me again. I got careless, this time, is all…”

Honey-brown eyes peered up at her through a tangled fall of gold. “Arana, the job was for a ghost extermination. Weird as shit, crazy to boot, but the description fit and we had to check. One of the locals had gotten a look at you and believed you were already dead, but then you started moving. Someone passing through thought the rumour was hilarious, and so added it to our job board. It was a complete fluke that we got here before you died.”

A long-fingered hand brushed the blond hair back and Christoph took a deep breath in. “No one knows how long you’ve been nailed up there. Do you even know? No, don’t answer that.” He waved away his question as he flicked back another lock of hair. “I’ll call Svorak in. Tell him that you’re awake.”

“Christoph,” she murmured. “Thank you. Again.” She sighed. She wished she could tell him that he didn’t need to worry, that it was all okay, just a part of the punishment. But it was better that others didn’t know. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Next time?” The tall man straightened up in his chair so abruptly that his spine cracked. He glared down at her. “You need a partner, Arana. No, I don’t mean a romantic one--though that helps. I mean a partner who will pull you out of messes like that or better yet  _prevent_ them altogether.”

She glared back. “The last person I took as a partner was thrown into a giant fan and shredded to bits,” she snapped angrily. “I can’t be responsible for that!”

Christoph scowled at her for a moment before shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Sorry. Not the time.” He sighed and looked at her with a strained smile. “We both need sleep, I think.”

Her scowl subsided into an unhappy pout. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. It’s a sore subject. He was… very young.”

Nodding, the blond sighed again. “Not many of us last past our first few years.” He reached into a pocket, withdrawing a cell phone and flipping it open. It barely rang twice before the other side picked up. He smiled and turned it onto speakerphone.

“ _Blondie? What’s going on? How’s Arana? Is she still with us?_ ”

Christoph raised an eyebrow and motioned to her to answer.

“Afternoon, Doll-face,” she said, raising her voice slightly. “I have something to admit. I think I might be Christ.”

There was a pause. A cough. And then a sudden crash of tin and wire and a tumble of hollow thuds.

“ _Don’t just stop in the middle of the aisle you imbecile!_ ”

But then Svorak’s deep-throated laugh was echoing up from the speakers. “ _Lady, I’m glad you’re awake, but fuck, that wasn’t even close to funny._ ”

“You’re the one laughing,” she retorted, smirking. “Bring me back a Pepsi, eh?”

“ _You want what?_ ” Svorak sounded offended.

“Pepsi?” Christoph repeated frowning.

Her brows lifted, before understanding dawned. “Aaah. Okay, we’re an anti-Pepsi household. What about Coke, then?”

“Yes, we’re anti-Pepsi, but even Coke will roll your stomach,” the blond replied.

“ _Lady, you’re on water diluted with soup and whatever other vegetable I can put through a blender._ Maybe  _milk.”_

“Tofu?” the blond proposed.

“ _Ugh, only if she demands it._ ”

“You try to feed me either, and I’ll show you the true meaning of ‘milk shake’,” she retorted. “Pepsi-hater! I hope you’re force fed it when you go to Hell.”

“ _Is she denying my soup?_ ”

“I think she’s denying everything at this point.”

“ _Hmm, if Pepsi is the only thing they force feed me in the Pit, I’ll count myself lucky_.”

“What do you mean by–-Hey!” Christoph sputtered.

“ _I’ll bring you your Pepsi Lady, but you’re also eating the damned soup!_ ”

Her eyes narrowed at the phone in Chris’ hand. “You drive a hard bargain, Doll-face,” she said. “But I accept your terms.” She mimed gagging. “Even for veggie soup.”  _Ick_!

“ _Good!_ ” There was a long pause. “ _It is good to hear your voice again. See you soon_.” And the line went dead.

The male at her bedside smirked down at the phone as he snapped it closed. “Yep,” he sighed. “We are both officially whipped.” He eyed her playfully. “And we aren’t even sleeping with you.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Funny, that.” She smirked and held up her hand for him to take. “Gotta pee. Give a lady a hand up.”

Laughing softly, Christoph folded back the blankets and picked her up bridal style. “You’re not walking yet,” he told her. “You’ve only been asleep for two days.”

“Felt more like three,” she replied, thumping his shoulder lightly. “You’re not going in with me, by the way. My delicate sensibilities would be deeply offended.”

“I’m amazed that you have anything left that is delicate,” he replied urbanely. “And yes, I am going in there, but only to deposit you. Then I’m turning right around and walking out. I’ll even close the door.”

She patted his head. “Good boy,” she replied.

“Woof,” he drawled back, bending his head to delicately lick the tip of her nose.

She swatted his shoulder again, grimacing. “Ewwww. God, where’s the disinfectant?”

He chuckled. “Somewhere in the washroom, I imagine.”

Stopping at the half-open door, the blond nudged the light on with an elbow and let Arana down legs first.

She wobbled slightly and made a very pissed-off face, which was reflected in the mirror. “Damn, I hate being injured,” she muttered to herself, and took a careful step. When she didn’t fall over, she nodded. “I think I’m good to go.”

Waving a hand, the gay chemist retreated from the bathroom. “Yell if you need anything,” he told her before closing the door and striding down the hall.

She stared at herself in the mirror, and smirked. It was the most rested she had looked in eighty years. Before the guilt set in, and the nightmares began…

Exactly five minutes later, she pulled open the door and peeked out. No Blondie in sight. Ha! She carefully walked from the bathroom, using the wall to stay upright, as she made her way back to the living room.

Which is where she found her would-be guardian. Completely and totally crashed out on the couch. Long limbs everywhere, nuzzling into a mound of pillows, hair spilling back tangled and knotted.

Her smile slipped away.  _Idiot child_ , she thought, and grabbed a blanket, tossing it over him. She paused to dry-heave silently over the linoleum, then shook her head and straightened said blanket so it covered all of him.

Behind her, the door opened, and she looked. Relieved to see Svorak. A finger to her lips, and a smile before she glanced pointedly at the blond.

Locking the door behind him, he left his shoes and walked over the carpet towards her. Lifting a single brow at his lover, Svorak shook his head. He also reached into a backpack and handed her a very small can of Pepsi.

“Kitchen or bedroom?” he asked her quietly.

She turned toward the kitchen, cradling the can close to her and trying to pretend her hands didn’t feel like they wanted to fall off. Once inside said room, she plopped down on a chair and sighed. “Dreaded soup time?” she asked, paused. “Oops. I mean…” She gave him an innocent grin.

Sighing, Svorak sat next to her at the table, and gingerly touched her fingers. “I deserve that. I forgot about your arms.” He surged up from the table and turned towards the fridge. “Chicken soup maybe?”

She rolled her eyes, making a face at his back. “Chicken sounds fine.”


	9. Define "Friend"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Social interactions.

After five days of the royal treatment (after a fashion), Arana was starting to get antsy. After a week and a half, she’d piss her sudden roommates off by trying random things… like going for walks outside. Only to get dragged back and forced to sit down and usually eat something. After two weeks, her stir-craziness was making  _them_  crazy, and finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Christoph!” she yelled (as she and Svorak were Not Talking after her recent stint on the rocks). She stalked into the kitchen where he was poking around (well, the best she could), and frowned at him. “I need clothes. I can _not_  continue wearing yours or…  _his_. We need to shop. I’m willing to take  _you_  with me, provided you don’t fret too much and treat me like a five-year-old.” She shifted, uncomfortably, then upon consideration, softened and added, “Please. I miss pants.”

Straightening up from his perusal of the fridge, the blond sighed taking in the sight of their friend. She did look a little ridiculous dressed only in a long short-sleeved shirt and a pair of socks, both of which were obviously too big for her.  _She probably misses having decent underwear as well_.

Svorak had been adamant about keeping her around until she was completely healed, and while her bones were knitting at an amazing rate, the torn ligaments were taking an understandable time to mend. Then again, bed rest was never a good thing for muscles, nor the mind.

“We’re all going a little cabin-feverish,” he admitted, Svorak excluded as he was the only one out taking random jobs. “Hmm, can you be ready to go in five? I’ll call Tiger to let him know we’re out.” He flashed her a grin. “Sound good?”

She brightened. “Yes! I’m stealing your blue shorts by the way.” She smirked, winked and sashayed away.

“Steal as in for this adventure or literally for good?” he called after her anxiously. He  _liked_ those shorts…

“Relax, just the adventure,” she called back, followed by the sound of her going through his drawers.

Shaking his head, the tall male stretched an arm out and snagged his phone. A few buttons later and he was listening to Svorak’s line connect.

“ _Svorak here, what’s up?_ ”

“Hey lover, just letting you know we're going out,” the blond murmured as he built a mental list of supplies they needed from what was missing in the fridge.

“ _We? Out?_ ” Tiger’s voice rose.

“Yes, the Lady and I are going out to buy unmentionables as well as mentionables,” Christoph supplied as he left the kitchen and walked over to the bedroom, amusedly knocking on his own door. Leaning close to the door jamb, he spoke to the woman on the other side, “Can you grab me a shirt as well? Button down please.”

His partner on the line paused, and the chemist could almost hear the wheels ticking in his head. “ _Without me?_ ” Svorak finally asked.

The blond laughed.

“Hey, nice underwear. Do you ever bother wearing them though?” Arana asked through the door, and tugged it open. She had tightened up the over-sized shirt she wore, and put on his blue shorts. In one hand, she held a plain red button down shirt for him, and the other… Tweety Bird boxers. “Or are they  _his_?”

“Oh definitely mine,” the tall man admitted. “Tiger is the one who owns the reptile paraphernalia.” Hearing the growling on the phone, he smirked and held out a hand for the shirt as he spoke into the phone. “No, you are not coming along. You are still  _sulking_ , remember?”

“ _Alright fine. But turn your GPS on; I want to know where you two are._ ”

“Besides, I’ll dump him into the ocean if he shows up,” Arana muttered darkly, stalking past the blond. “Let’s go!”

xXx

They eventually managed to find a decent clothes shop, and Arana was delighted to note that it had a booth to try things on. The first thing she looked into was a pair of pants. Into the booth she went, and then stepped out in said pants to show it off to Christoph. “Whaddya think, kiddo?”

The blond man sitting on the floor, leaning against a tall mirror tilted his head and pursed his lips. “I like the cut,” he nodded, “but I think you could go a little tighter. Maybe a size down?”

She looked down, and shrugged. “Let’s see,” she replied, and went back to the pants rack. She shifted through them, grabbed a couple different sizes, and started back for the mirror. But she paused, eyes caught by a pretty little red number on a hook. It was displayed, and a bit old-fashioned, but… She shook her head and returned to the changing booth.

“I think you’re right,” she said, stepping out in the new size.

But Christoph wasn’t there. In fact, he was several racks away, perusing the area where she had paused. Turning his head, he quirked a brow at the new pair of pants and nodded grinning. “Much better!” he called over to her.

Her brows lifted at his change of location, but what he was looking at was blocked by other racks. She shook her head. “I’m going to be getting them, then.” She turned back into the booth to change out of the pants. She’d get a few more in the same size.

When she emerged again, the merc was back in the change-room area smiling slightly. “May want to grab a few tops as well,” he advised.

She snorted. “Duh.” She smiled at him to take the sting out, and moved over to the shirt racks and started going through them.

A few feet away from her, an attractive male with dark hair long enough to touch his belt turned towards her. His lips pulled into a smirk when his gaze landed on her. “Well, well, Arana Bella. Fancy meeting you here,” he drawled, letting long fingers trail away from the rack he was eying.

She blinked and turned, brows arching upwards. “Oh. Dari.” A frown followed. “And here I’d been having a pretty good day.”

“Ouch. That hurt,” Dari said, pressing a hand to his heart, reddish-brown eyes widening in mock pain.

 _And how likely is it for the Lady to have friends, hmm_? Christoph mused as he watched the interaction with narrow eyes. The two mercenaries still hadn’t found Rookie and it rankled. It also raised suspicion on anyone who approached Arana. Rookie could have friends and allies. He certainly had an employer who had been cheated the death of a certain brunette.

Frowning slightly, the blond picked up a few of the discarded items and walked out onto the floor, slotting the pants into racks as he went.

“So what?” Arana snapped, frowning more.

Dari waved a hand. “Calm down, mm? So, you have a partner?” The Arab nodded to indicate the obviously observing blond.

Arana huffed. “No. He’s a friend.”

The tall Arab actually looked taken aback by that. “ _Yours_?” he scoffed. “But I thought Arana Bella doesn’t have friends? I thought they were just… oh what was the phrase you used…? Ah. ‘Deadweight baggage’. What happened to that, mm?”

The English woman scowled outright at him. “People change, kid.”

He laughed. “You don’t. Seven years, and not one extra wrinkle. How ‘bout that. Though you haven’t been sleeping again, by the looks of it.” He tapped his forehead. “I could take care of that for you.”

“And let you steal my victim again? Right.” But somehow, she looked almost tempted. “What do you want with me, boyo?”

“Was just saying hi,” he replied with a shrug.

The target flashed teeth, blew smoke, spouted half-threats, but from Lady’s reactions, the man seemed to be nothing but a rather sharp annoyance. The blond hummed and added the last pair of pants onto the rack it belonged to. He stood for a moment, thumbing through the selection, noting the textures and stitching. _Women’s clothing, so strange_.

“Excuse me?”

He blinked down at a simpering peroxide blonde at his side. “Hello,” he said amused.

“Do you work here? I’m trying to find a skirt.”

Dari eyed Arana, brows lifting when her eyes darted over toward her companion… and narrowed. Oh-ho-ho! Jealousy? Or was she being protective? He couldn’t tell for sure, but he’d almost pegged the blond as a homosexual.

The brunette snatched up the shirts in her size and seemed to stomp all the way over to the changing booths. The Arab smirked and trailed after her curiously, eying the two blonds over by the rack with amusement.

Catching sight of Arana charging through the racks in his direction, Christoph could only smile a little wider. “Sorry, don’t work here. Though, the skirt section is over by that wall,” he told the young woman, pointing in the correct direction, which happened to be  _away_ from the encroaching storm. “Does that help?”

The girl in front of him shook her head, peering up at him through a shock of fried-white bangs. “I think I need a male’s perspective,” she coaxed with a bright red smile.

 _Any male’s, apparently_ , the blond snorted mentally. His eyes flicked up over her head.  _Uh oh._

“Knock off, brat,” Arana snapped, stepping over and grabbing Christoph’s arm. “He’s taken.”

Dari stifled a snicker. Well, this was interesting. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Arana so… jealous.

The bleached pixie blinked and scowled at the woman clamped onto his arm. Then she turned her dark brown eyes back up to him.

Chuckling, and a little embarrassed at being caught out, Christoph allowed himself a sheepish grin. Coughing, he pointed to the wall again. “Skirts. That way,” he repeated.

It was hilarious how much darker the girl’s scowl went. He could see why the need for the heavy make up. After a moment though, she shook her head, smoothed out her expression and sniffed. And walked right out of the store.

“My goodness, woman. Pull back the fangs,” he murmured to Lady.

She snapped her teeth at him in response, prompting not-quite-stifled laughter from behind them. She turned a baleful glare onto the brat, whom was covering his mouth with a hand. “Shut up, you twit!”

Dari just laughed harder. “You’re like a cat!” he gasped out. “A very territorial cat!”

“Jump off a bridge,” she snarled irately, and stalked for the register.

“Kitty!” Dari called after her, grinning outright. He winked at Christoph. “Good luck with that woman. She’s Fate’s favorite play toy!” He waved and turned away to go back to shopping.

“Hmm,” the tall man mused. “I’d say she’s more like a snake. She seems to be shedding layers every time we find her.” He shook his head and smiled. “One feline is good enough, thank you.”

Dari laughed. “Ask her about Russia!”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” she yelled, now standing in line, and got laughter as her reply.

Christoph blinked and gave her an amused look as he watched the employees of the store take executive action, fast tracking her through a previously closed cashier. Within minutes, they were making their way to a different store; the blond bemused and the brunette fuming.


	10. Hello, Kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a good thing none of them have cat allergies.

The hotel room felt achingly empty with only him there. Svorak frowned and shook his head. It had been such a long time since he’d been by himself in a hotel. Though, from the way clothing was scattered around in the bedroom, it was obvious he had roommates.

Rubbing a towel across the back of his neck, the dark-skinned man smirked slightly. One good thing about knowing where his partner was, was that he could take a shower and feel free to wander to the bedroom nude. Though, he only had a few minutes left of that certain freedom.

Padding over to the bedroom, he tossed the damp towel on a chair and perused the mess that was the drawers. He had just slipped on a pair of sweatpants when he heard a slight scraping at the door. He paused, and frowned when the door didn’t open.

_Hmm._.. Stalking through the hall and to the kitchen, he tapped a small LCD and pushed a button. The mini-cam blinked on and relayed the image of the hallway and their door.

Svorak blinked. There was a box. And it was open. And… writhing.

He tapped the display again, and the GPS showed Christoph at the elevators. So, it wasn’t them.

Shrugging, he half-jogged to the door and flipped the locks. He was still staring down into the box with a perplexed expression as his blond partner and their female addition rounded the corner.

“Eh? What is tha—” The brunette cut off five feet away, staring at the box with an increasingly furious expression. “That’s it. He’s dead,” she snarled. “And I’ll use them for sacrifice!” This yelled for the benefit of the no-doubt watching culprit.

There was no reply, though. Maybe he was already gone.

Both men had taken a step back from the enraged female. Svorak even had his hands up.

Christoph sighed, and walked around her to look at the box of kittens. “Time to move, I think.”

“Eh, it was past time already,” his partner agreed and disappeared back into the living room.

Tilting his head, the pale man frowned. “What are we going to do with these?” he asked no one in particular.

“Kagogi,” was the snarled response. “I want cat meat.”

There was a pause as the chemist registered that. Then Christoph dared to glance over at her. “Erm… I actually can’t tell whether you’re serious or not. We’ve tried cat before. It’s not as good as say, chicken.”

“And kittens have no meat!” Svorak called from where he was gathering papers off the coffee table.

She snarled and reached in, picking one of the kittens out and glaring into its eyes. It batted her nose with a paw, eyes wide. She huffed, calming down. “Animal shelter then. Somewhere that isn’t Mexico, preferably,” she grumbled.

Hefting the box into his arms, the blond ignored the mass scramble for the ends of his hair. “Smuggling felines across the border will be the least of our problems, I suppose,” he said cheerfully, entering the suite.

“Wait—We’re taking the fluffballs with us?”

She turned a glare on Svorak. “ _I_  am. You’re quite welcome to go on without me,” she retorted, a bit prickly due to her awful day.

“Whoa.” The dark man blanched holding up a pillow. “Okay, yes. We are. No sweat.”

The blond chuckled his way into the kitchen, sliding shut the door and depositing the kitten box on the floor by the stove. Shaking his head, he freed them one at a time onto the smooth linoleum. Hmm, water, food, latrines.

“Arana?” he called. “Could you bring the last kitten over here?” Four kittens in all.  _Oh this will be interesting._

She stepped into the kitchen, nudging the door shut behind her, and put the black and white ball of fur on the floor. “What do you need for them? And how soon are we leaving?”

Watching the various furred beasts explore their new environment, Christoph smiled and gestured at the sink. “If you could grab a bowl, we can start with water. And as to leaving, Svorak and I can be ready to leave in a few hours, one if we need to hustle. He’s been making departurearrangements for a week now.”

She nodded. “Can we be gone by dark, then?” she murmured. May as well spend the sleepless hours traveling after all.

A deeper voice than the blond’s answered from behind her. “We’ll be gone in an hour,” Svorak said wryly. “I don’t like other people knowing where we sleep.” He caught his partner’s attention. “I’ll grab the stuff for the cats. Are you alright with packing the bags?”

Christoph nodded, carefully stepping around the felines to the empty cases under the kitchen window.

“Good, I’ll be back in twenty.”

She sighed and knelt beside a kitten that had ventured near. “You’re troublesome, little one,” she murmured, and smiled faintly. That stupid, reckless boy.


	11. Don’t Poke the Wet Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hurts more when it's someone else who's bleeding out on the floor.

_Three years later, March 3rd, Tuesday, New York City…_

_Plop, plop, plop_ … The sound of rapidly falling rain. Drumming down against the cement, washing away the blood, and the tears. Things had been going so well. She’d gotten a partner, had… had fallen into some sort of love. She almost loved him. It was stupid, so stupid. How could she do something so foolish?

But he was lovely, even if sometimes she wanted to beat the tar out of him. He never failed to make her laugh, or draw even some unwanted emotion out of her. And they worked brilliantly together. He could watch her no matter what, and she watched him while he slept.

Dari had found her a month after she’d parted ways with her Boys. He’d proposed a partnership. He could keep her safe from the hunters, if she’d lend her knowledge and ‘expertise’ to his own efforts. He wanted her magic, more specifically.

It was a fair trade, as she saw it. And then she saw less the fairness, and more the happiness. Happy. She’d been happy, sometimes, these last few years.

But it was inevitably to end. Eventually, someone put out a contract on her, and her partner took care of it. He took a bullet for her.

The would-be assassin lay staring wide-eyed into his own blood, and the rain was washing it away.

 _Plop, plop, plop_ …

She couldn’t stop crying. She hadn’t cried this hard since Caine…

A hand, larger than hers, lifted. Fingers slid into her hair. “Hey, Kitty,” he whispered softly, looking paler by the minute. “Guess this is it, right?”

She shook her head in denial. “I told you I shouldn’t take a partner,” she replied desperately.

He grinned, flashing perfect teeth behind tanned skin. “Don’t mope in the sewers for me, eh?” he asked, hand sliding down. “I wouldn’t like that.”

“Just rest,” she whispered. “I’ll get help.”

“Don’t leave,” he replied. “I don’t want to stare at an angry sky. Bad luck, that…”

_Plop, plop, plop…_

xXx

“If it’s her, I will sacrifice whatever you deem suitable to the gods of the job board,” a man whispered fervently as he drove through traffic of downtown NYC.

A coughing thin voice whispered back, “We can hope, and yet wish not.”

“Baba... You're banned from talking.” He parked the dull brown car next to another beat up looking can on wheels and left the rental behind, ghosting through the silent warehouses. “Warehouses, why is it always the industrial districts?”

A long drawn in breath that rattled.

“Shut it.”

A low humming sigh.

Clenching his teeth, the mercenary in full assassin gear pressed a button on a different mic and listened. “Clear on my end, yours?”

“ _Nothing here but metal, rust, and old bones_ ,” Wolf murmured back. “ _You’re sure your Rookie took this_?”

“The job was too much the same as last time. Easy pay and a target he already trumped.” Svorak narrowed his gaze as he visually swept the insides of another empty warehouse. “He’s here somewhere.”

“ _Along with your Bloody Woman_.”

“Perhaps.”

If the deities were laughing, yes; if they were smiling, no.

xXx

“You know, I used to have a little sister,” Arana murmured. “She was beautiful. Got married… But she died, in childbirth…”

“Yeah…?” Dari mumbled, trying to fight the pull of the blackness. But even while dying, he didn’t miss the loud shriek, like metal sliding on metal. “Someone’s coming… Protect yourself, Kitty.”

“I wanna die, and go with you,” she replied softly.

“You can’t do that, and we both know it,” he muttered. “Take my gun. You know how to use it?”

She picked up the silencer-muffled weapon from beside him, nodding. “I have some practice. Prefer blades, though…”

He coughed hoarsely, and it was almost a laugh. “I know…” He’d seen her victim.

xXx

A low whistle blew over the radio and Svorak jerked his head up, brows furrowed. “Wolf?”

“ _B09: silent. I have visual on a male body. If it’s her, she lives up to her namesake_.”

“Damn. I’m on my way.” Svorak sprinted out of the warehouse and counted the large painted numbers as he ran. B06, B07, B08… B09.

xXx

She lifted the gun and aimed it at the door, bracing herself for the kick. She could hear approaching footsteps, and her eyes darkened slightly. She knew they’d check here first. The body lay just outside the warehouse, just outside the closed doors. She’d dragged Dari in here for cover… but they’d find her soon.

“You should stand,” Dari muttered.

“Fuck you,” she retorted.

He chuckled. “Baby, I wish I could.”

The footsteps had stopped.

xXx

Rounding the stack of broken boxes of the alley, Svorak nearly plowed into the stationary Wolf at a flat-out run. And nearly pushed them both into the chunks of meat that decorated the warehouse’s doorstep.

“Holy mutherfucking SHIT!” Wolf snarled out, just bracing enough to stop them from toppling.

Svorak gulped and cautiously pushed himself off the younger man’s stiff shoulders. “Have you seen her?”

Still edgy, his mission partner gestured sharply at the display. “This is all I’ve got, Tiger. You know her more than I do. Is this her calling card?”

“It’s different,” Svorak frowned, surveying the damage. “Last one I saw was hacked into. This one’s hacked  _apart_.”

“Is it your Bloody Woman or not?” the other merc grumbled. “Because whoever is left, is probably inside.” One black gloved hand waved at the smears.

The last time he met Arana near a hit, she hadn’t been walking either. Maybe it  _was_ her.

xXx

“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Dari mumbled, barely able to keep his eyes open.

She shook her head. “Me neither… but I can fix that.” She drew a breath, and exhaled. “ _ **Ampliphicare**_.”

Her hearing sharpened, magic boosted by the dead wrong-doer outside, even without the ritual. Shifting, someone noting the blood trail from Dari's body– _Dammit, I knew it!–_ and a grunt of assent. And then… a familiar voice.

“It’s them,” she whispered, eyes widening.

“Your knights?” he murmured.

“My boys,” she replied with a faint smile. “Dari, I’m going to save you.” She pulled her finger off the trigger, but didn’t lower the gun. “Kiddo!” she called, raising her voice slightly.

“Lady?” There was a thump on the door, and then it was screeching open. “Shit, woman.”

The mercenary in black dropped to his knees by her side and glanced quickly down at the man on the floor. The other stockier man at the door took everything in at a blink and thumbed his mic as he walked back out the door. “Clear, injured extra, need Medic, stretcher, B09.”

The man kneeling peeled back his mask and gave her a weak smile. “Here we go again,” Svorak said in greeting.

“Least it’s not me this time,” she replied with a wan smile. “Dari, Svorak. Svorak, Dari.”

“Yo,” Dari said weakly. “I’d shake your hand, but I think I might contaminate you.”

The brunette woman snorted. “Rest, stupid. We’ll take care of you now. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Svorak’s radio crackled to life. “ _Tiger. Injured status?_ ”

“Gunshot, chest, bleeding out.”

“ _Strip him. Block the holes. ETA twenty._ ”

“I don’t usually do this on a first date, Dari,” Svorak muttered, pulling out a knife, “but I’m going to have to strip off your top.” Medic wasn’t talking minutes, he was talking  _seconds_. The black man’s skin was forfeit if he didn’t follow direct orders.

“Damn. There goes my chastity,” the Arab replied, chuckling, and started coughing.

Arana’s expression warped into one of worry. “Breathe, Dari. Carefully, okay? Stop talking,” she murmured fretfully.

The fabric split in a swift clean slice and his torso was laid bare, the wound weeping for a bare second before Svorak pressed a hand down mercilessly. Glancing over at her face, the merc’s lips twisted. “Good luck telling a partner to shut up,” he told her wryly.

There were footsteps at the door, and then other men were jogging through the door. The ex-military man had a moment to sigh in relief before Medic took control.

Three seconds later, Svorak was shunted aside to watch as the prone man was moved to the stretcher.

“Better move it girl or you’re going to miss the ambulance ride,” he said, glancing over at Arana.

She shook her head. “I have something else to do.”

Dari grimaced. “I can understand not going into the hospital, Kitty, but what–” He caught her scowl, and almost sat up. “Shit. Don’t let that stubborn bitch go!”

Shaking his head, Svorak rolled to his feet. “Not a civ hospital. Our own. So you–” He looked at the lone woman. “–have no reason not to follow.”

Arana smiled at them. “Calm down, I’m not doing  _that_ , Dari. I’m not stupid, and anyway, the guy that shot you’s dead already.” She shook her head tiredly. “I’m going back to the room to get our stuff, that’s all.”

Dari was glaring at her suspiciously. “So you won’t mind someone coming with you, eh?”

“Nope.”

Respecting the growl from Medic, Svorak huffed a sigh. “Fine, I’m tagging along.” He looked at the injured man, holding up both hands. “Not interested in funny business at all,” he vowed.

Wolf at one end, Medic at the other, the stretcher rose smoothly and was hustled towards the door.

“I’m not worried,” Dari called. “She thinks of you as a child!”

‘She’ scowled. “Bah, bastard,” she scoffed, and then they were out the door. She turned to Svorak. “Hotel room, mm? C’mon. You’ll be happy to note that Dari's forced me to expand my clothing selection.”

“A child, huh?” the man mused. “Well, that’s a sure-fire way to emasculate a man.” He chuckled, pressing on the mic. “Goldie, we found her. She’s good.”

There was a long gusty breath. “ _Gods demand brandy_ ,” Christoph whispered softly, carefully.

“Name the brand,” Svorak replied smiling faintly.

“Mmm, golden,” Arana murmured, walking cat-like to the door and peeking out. She completely ignored the chunks of human at first, then paused and glanced down at them. “Mm. Pent-up rage really is bad for my skin…”

Following behind her, the last male shrugged. “Good thing it’s raining then. So, hotel?”

She nodded and lead him around it, into the back where a  _very_  conspicuous car sat, collecting rainwater. Conspicuous in that cherry-red Camaro way. She dug some keys from her pocket and clicked, auto-unlocking the car. “C’mon then.”

Svorak blinked, frowned, sighed, and slid into the passenger seat. At least it wasn’t lime green.


	12. Saline Drips and Piano Keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did we lose him? In any case, here's someone else.

Reclining in his swaddle of blankets and pillows, the tall blond man watched with bleary eyes as the team returned from the streets. Rain drenched uniforms, matte black weapons, everything was piled into the corners and discarded as time permitted, all while Medic growled out orders and a familiar face was manoeuvred into the bed next to his and the extra hands were banished to the kitchen.

Within minutes the man was stripped completely bare, hooked up to the monitors and put under. It was another half an hour for a single bullet to be removed and the hole stitched closed.

When the action finally settled, Medic turned his focus on him.

“I heard you talking,” the short man accused.

The blond shrugged.

“No more of that or else I’m keeping you sedated until your lungs clear.”

Christoph grimaced and nodded.

Despite all his actions of acquiescence, the doctor still scowled darkly and stalked quietly out of the room. The chemist sighed. There was just no pleasing some people.

There was another short, stocky, and angry growl outside the door and then a muttered command. Then a very familiar brunette came through the door.

Arana was smirking faintly, glancing at her companion, who looked annoyed as he carried a couple of bags while she just hefted a duffle. “It’s special,” she was saying, and then she caught sight of Christoph and perked visibly. “Angel-face!”

He’d apparently been upgraded from ‘kiddo’.

Svorak choked on a laugh, desperately trying to keep silent in respect for the resting Dari. Christoph looked like the words were just piling up behind his teeth, but there was a radio locked on his throat--channeled straight to Medic.

The blond settled for a smile and a wave.

She set her duffle down and went over, giving him a gentle hug. “I heard you were sick. Normally, I’d offer my special herbal tea, but… Dari told me that if I fed it to a sick person ever again, he’d ban me from kitchen use.” She smiled sheepishly, and then let her gaze trail over to the dark-haired Arab on the next bed. The smile faded. “Um, be right back…”

Rolling his eyes, Christoph grinned and gently pushed her over to the other patient.

“Concentrate on Dari, Lady,” the ex-military man said. “I’ll deal with Blondie.”

They both watched as she drifted over to the other bed, and then Christoph raised an eyebrow at his partner. Pulling out a cell phone, he tapped out a message, “ _Sick?”_

The only standing merc shrugged slightly. Taking the phone, Tiger replaced the message with his own,  _“You wanna tell her you breathed in your own cooking?”_

Christoph grimaced and wiped the message. “ _Lab work is always tricky.”_

“ _That’s why the safety gear, idiot.”_

“ _I’ll heal.”_

A dark hand closed over his own pale ones and squeezed. Svorak leaned close and murmured, “But no more running.”

Christoph tilted his head to give his partner a patient look. “ _Worse case scenario_ ,” he texted and turned the cell to face blue eyes.

At the other bed, Arana stared at the sleeping Arabian assassin, smiling faintly. He was the lucky one, wasn’t he? Her Dari always had been pretty lucky… “We can’t stay for long,” she murmured, just loud enough for Christoph and Svorak to hear. “Or rather… I can’t. Can you watch over him ‘till he’s able to go on? I’ll wait till he’s conscious again, but….” She shook her head.

Two sets of eyes, blue and honey-brown gazed at her. Christoph nodded, tilting and resting his head against his partners as Svorak answered for them both. “No one will hold you here,” he said with a smile. “Never was part of the plan. Though,” he paused, “drinking was.”

Long fingers tapped out a message and the blond nudged the merc who looked down. “Come back for Dari,” he read out loud, “or he’ll just look for you.”

She chuckled. “He always looks for me. Why do you think he was there?” she asked, meaning the store before, when she was with Christoph the last time. “I’ll come back for him.” But she didn’t even try to hide the fact that it was a lie.

The two men traded glances. One partner nudged the other who sighed and walked over to the bags. “Do you want to sleep here or in another room with us guys?” Svorak asked and gestured to the empty bed on the other side of the Arab. “As if I really need to ask.”

“I’ll stay here,” she said. She didn’t say ‘sleep’, in a very pointed manner, but then she knew that they’d probably noticed her lack of it.

Christoph grinned and Svorak grumbled, tossing a coin towards the blond. “Yeah, yeah. Ass.” He pulled the bags over to the spare bed before walking around it to open another door. “You get a washroom here, even got a tub.”

“Main meals will be announced, but you aren’t required to show,” he shrugged at her expression. “Having Medic around kinda means everyone is force-fed proper diet. The men aren’t allowed to skimp on nutrients; however you’ve got a free pass since you’re not under his jurisdiction,” he explained rolling his eyes. “In the next couple of days all of us are going to be gone. Medic too. He’s calling in a secondary to watch over the invalids though, so you’ll have company in a fashion.”

There was a small delicate cough from the bed and Svorak snorted. “You’re running silent,” he told his lover. “Even when the secondary is here. Medic’s orders.”

“I have duct tape,” Arana offered with a wicked look cast in the blond’s direction.

Honey-brown eyes widened in hurt and betrayal, until they narrowed at the huffing wheezing laugh from his partner. With wicked accuracy, the chemist whipped the coin back at Svorak.

“Hoy!” the man yelped, dodging as the projectile pinged off the doorway where his head used to be.

The two men glared at each other.

And then the bedroom door opened.

A brown hairy arm pointed at Svorak and then crooked with silent animosity.

“Aww, fuck,” the merc muttered, obeying and walking out of the room, but not before throwing a baleful look at his blond lover, who was smirking.

Arana chuckled, but was otherwise quiet, and went back to watching Drai’s sleeping face.

xXx

Long, slender fingers ran quickly along the keys beneath them, the music that came as a result sweet and sad. Deep blue eyes were narrowed in concentration, but not so much that she didn’t notice the figure coming in behind her.

“You almost done?” a soft voice asked, the redhead taking a seat beside her. Despite her question, she launched into playing as well, making the solo a duet, and the two remained there for some time longer.

Finally, though, the redhead finished off and dropped her hands into her lap, and the blonde played a few keys more before stopping as well. She reached up, and slid the cover down over the keys, sitting back. She smiled. “It’s been so long!” she chirped, turning to look at the woman with her, Amaya.

“Glad you enjoyed it. We should go soon. Not long until we have the job,” Amaya told her.

The blonde nodded and got to her feet, long curls fluttering slightly. “Mmhm. Yes. Let’s go.”

Black eyes flicked over the blonde’s attire. “Lucy.” When the younger girl stopped and turned, Amaya quirked a brow. “Let’s try leggings and a shirt, not a dress.”

Lucy beamed. “Dresses suit me!” she replied, but would eventually agree. She could never tell the ginger no.


	13. The Hounds Unite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can run...

Dark eyes snapped open, fingers closing around the hand near his chest, and squeezed. “Who the hell are you?” Dari growled.

“Dari, this is the medic, remember?” Arana said from beside him, quickly. “You’re safe. He’s been tending you. Be grateful.”

The grip loosened but did not release, and the Arab turned his gaze onto her. “Eh..?”

Standing over his now awake charge, the secondary medic shrugged. “We get that a lot,” he said, but didn’t pull away. “Hair-triggers the whole lot of them.”

Behind him, his other charge, Christoph was still sleeping. It was sometime in the early morning, somewhere past three.

“Bullet wound,” he reminded the Arab calmly. “Medic pulled you in. You’ve been recuperating for two days now.”

“Two-” Dari tried to sit up, but didn’t resist when Arana pushed him back down. He frowned at the brunette. “Two days? What the fuck?”

She sighed. “You’re not ready to get up. You won’t even be able to stand at this point. You should rest, regain your strength.”

“Lady’s right,” the other man agreed, and handed Dari a cup with a straw. “Take your time with that,” he advised.

Dari eyed it warily, but one look from Arana was enough to have him sipping it carefully. She sighed. “Um, look, I need to… get going. Do a few things…”

The Arab stopped, expression going stony. “You’re leaving.”

She drew a breath, and exhaled heavily. “Yes,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Why?” he demanded furiously. “Medic guy, leave us alone. I’ll stay on the bed, but this is a private discussion.”

Raising an eyebrow, the man nodded. Within moments, the medic left, closing the door softly behind him.

“You know why,” Arana said shortly, running a hand through her hair and grimacing. She needed a shower.

“I know why,” he muttered irately. “Because you’re so fucking scared of outliving every goddamn person you know, that you’re not willing to keep ties with any of them for any length of time.”

“I’m not scared!” she protested. “And watch what you say! There are ears all over the place.”

“Fuck ‘em,” he snapped. “Stop fucking running away, Arana. You told  _me_ , didn’t you? Why can’t you tell those guys? Those men that are so precious to you?  _Why_  do you have to leave?”

“Because this,” she made a vague gesture that meant the curse, “will eventually end up killing them. You’re so protective of me, but that’s because you think I’m some sort of damsel in distress. Well guess what? I’m neither a damsel, nor in distress. I’ll  _live_. You almost didn’t.”

“Is that what this is?” he asked, slumping in the bed. “This is my fault.”

“ _No_ ,” she growled, fingers curling into fists. “It’s not. But… the accidents will catch up, eventually. They’ll end up killing you, and I-” She stopped, shaking her head. “I have to leave, for good. It’s better if I do it now, before you get killed. You’re too young-”

“Oh, don’t  _even_  start that crap!” he snapped, cutting her off. “I’m thirty one. I’m older than most of my kind ever get.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” he snapped. “So leave already.”

The brunette moved to get up, but he caught her wrist. “No, I change my mind,” he said. “I’ll come after you, if you go.”

She smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That’s my man. You always come after me.”

“Uhg.”

She broke his grip easily and stood. “Good bye, Dari.”

A few minutes after the immortal had left, there was a rustle from the bed beside him. Thoughtful eyes met Dari's in tired understanding. Christoph’s fingers flickered over a touch pad before showing the screen to him.

“ _Svorak tried to leave me too_.” The blond man shrugged.

“Yeah? What’d you do?” Dari asked tiredly.

More tapping. “ _Poisoned him and made myself the only available outlet for an antidote_.”

Dari chuckled. “Aah, if only that’d work,” he said, amused.

“ _It took nearly five years of chasing and arguing, but I survived. Even now._ ” The blond tapped his fingers on the blankets in thought. “ _You don’t have to be immortal to think you’ll outlive all your loved ones_.”

Dari eyed the blond closely. “That’s right,” he agreed slowly. “You don’t have to be.”  _But she is_ , he thought darkly.

The other bedridden patient gave him a tired look. “ _Just next time you catch up to her, buy a kevlar vest_.” The older man shook his head.

Dari laughed softly. “Have one. Left it in the car. Broad makes me stupid,” he confided, and sighed. “Eh, all I gotta do is find the most peaceful place in the world with a recent disaster. I’ll find her quick.”

The blond looked over at him sharply, eyes calculating. “ _Give us a heads up? The plan was to tie her down for at least one night of drinking_.”

“She likes pretty places,” Dari offered. “Beaches, cities with skyscrapers, mountain areas with good views. Avoids England like the plague, though, so you’ll probably  _never_  find her there.” He paused thoughtfully. “Never goes to Ireland either, anymore.” He shook his head. “Gimme that; I’ll put in a number where you can reach me if you need to.”

When the cell phone was handed over, there was another message on the screen. “ _And if we catch a trail, like we did a few days ago, we will let you know as well. Svorak and I have enough connections to find her eventually. We just don’t track her down unless we worry_.”

Christoph mused as he watched Dari read the text.  _When we worry, which is almost always. When have we not seen this woman in trouble?_

Dari nodded. “I was just about to ask that,” he said, and entered his emergency contact number into the contacts list, under the name ‘Scorpio’, and noted aloud the listing before handing the phone back.

Lips quirked a little as the blond shrugged. Leaning a bit to the side, he pulled out a wallet and thumbed through it, extracting a plain white card. He handed it over. It read, ‘Baba’ and a URL to a message board. A moment later, the cell phone was turned his way again. “ _Enter your contact name as a username, B09MEXKittensBW as the password. Then change the password as soon as possible. We tried getting Arana registered before, but she never did._ ”

Dari nodded. “She’s not a fan of computers,” he said, memorizing the password. “I’ll do that as soon as I can.”

The cellphone was subjected to rapid tapping, as the chemist grinned, entering the new user account and the adding Scorpio to the roster. It was nice being an Admin.

When the blond was finally finished, he looked over and noted Dari's drooping form. He cleared his throat. “I’m calling in the medic,” he said, voice scratchy and painfully raw sounding. “Let him pamper you and then sleep. We’ll track her down when you’re ready.”

“Yeah,” Dari murmured, sighing. “She say what she did with my stuff? No one should get into it. Poisons.”

The other man’s eyes lit up the same time the medic slammed through the door. “You!” the slim man growled, pointing at Christoph. “Shut _up_.” For a secondary, the man was fast becoming a milder version of the original Medic. “That is  _not_ the way to call for attention,” the man fumed even as he stalked closer to the blond.

Smirking, Christoph waved a hand. “Hi Scalpel,” he croaked out.

“Fucking idiot,” the medic snapped, and pointedly jabbed a finger down on a button of the machine.

The chemist had time for a low chuckle before the sedatives kicked in and he fell into darkness.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, the one man standing rubbed a hand through spiky brown hair, obviously taking a moment to calm down. Then he turned to look at Dari. “Sorry. Baba was told specifically not to talk. Anyway, up for a check up?”

One slim dark brow lifted, and Dari shrugged lightly. “Fine,” he replied, eying the man without any real expression. He was mostly curious. He hadn’t ever been in any sort of establishment like this. It was always some sort of partner with medical training. They always had medical training for him. Which was why Arana had been so ideal.

Scalpel looked relieved at the ready acceptance and ran through the checks quickly. The man was mending well, thankfully no complications, other than a bullet that nearly took out a lung. He kept a running commentary of the various observations for his patient’s benefit and at the end, closed up the man’s shirt with professional efficiency.

Then he paused. “Um, the lady left,” he said slowly, and then checked the wall on the other side of the spare bed. “But it doesn’t look like she took anything with her. So, maybe she’s coming back.” The medic looked at the patient.

Dari followed his gaze, and sighed. “That’s all mine,” he replied. “Don’t let anyone open any of it. They’ll lose a limb or two.” He shrugged and looked at the medic expressionlessly. “Thank you for the care.”

The younger man nodded. “Welcome,” he said, then looked at the sleeping blond and murmured exasperatedly, “Idiot.” Waving at the Arab, the medic turned off the lights and slipped out the door.

Dari was left alone to the dark.


	14. Friendly Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Found her...

_Six months later, September 18th, Russian border city_ …

The attractive Arab leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping idly on the table-top of the small, not-well-cared-for bar. He was positioned in the very back corner, his view of the room unblocked, but a supporting pillar blocking him from view of the rest of the room.

To anyone that  _did_  happen to venture close enough to see him, he was alone, looking almost as if he were expecting company. And those people would be right. He  _was_ expecting company. And he saw them the second they stepped inside the bar, watching as the blond made a face that clearly telegraphed  _What is that smell?_

The Arab smirked and waited for them to search out this corner and find him.

The moment the chemist spotted his contact, he rolled his eyes. Of course the man would be smug. The assassin had been the first to find an inkling of where their quarry had gone to ground.

Months after their hospital stay together, Christoph was still weathering the occasional scowl from Svorak. Tiger had been pissed that Lady hadn’t been at base when he returned from the mission.

Speaking of. The blond triggered the mic. “Scorpio spotted. Stand by.”

“ _Copy_ ,” his partner replied.

Humming a little under his breath, still appreciating the ability to do so without the rattling in his lungs, Christoph strode forward, Ruby at his back while Wolf stayed at the door.

“Care to join me for a drink, Goldie Locks?” Dari drawled. “Sweet-heart there is welcome, too, of course.”

The blond laughed lowly and edged away from the redhead next to him. She simply levelled a flat gaze on the tall Arab before sitting and facing the crowd. Christoph shook his head, mouthed ‘Kids’ before sitting down.

“So, what do we have to work with?” he asked without preamble.

“A future location,” Dari replied promptly. “Apparently, a woman going by the name ‘Erin Storva’, and Kitty’s description has been hired as a bit of a witch doctor for one of the local badasses. He’s been moving her location every week, and I have the time, day and location for the next move; tomorrow.”

“Excellent. God, that woman is good at running,” the blond enthused. The small woman at his side snorted and he turned a smile to her. “Some people have reasons to run.”

“She is for the wrong ones,” the girl said tonelessly.

Dari smirked. “Sure, whatever you say, Red,” he blew a mock kiss at her, just to watch her stiffen and narrow those red eyes.

Christoph bit back a chuckle and waved a hand. “And that’s seventeen for Scorpio, five for Ruby. Let’s move on shall we?”

The two men spent the next two hours plotting while the lone girl watched for spies and Wolf kept Svorak updated on traffic. Overall, it was a successful night. The first one they’d had in half a year.

xXx

The door was slammed open, and the woman seated on a mat on the floor opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the furious man stalking inside. “Tres?” she murmured, brows lifting.

“We were followed. No doubt another hunter after you!” Tres growled, and grabbed her upper arm, dragging her to her feet. “When are they going to stop coming?”

“Never, probably,” she replied with icy calm, eyes shuttered and face lax. “You’re more upset than usual.”

“It’s a  _team_.”

Team? “I see. You would like me to deal with them?” she asked.

He released her, calming slightly. “Can you?”

“Of course. Killing isn’t anything new. I’ll need a blade,” she said.

“You get a knife,” Tres snapped. “That’s it.”

“You expect me to kill a team of assassins with a knife?” she demanded, but there was no heat to it. That would break the game. Tres  _had_  to believe that she was an icy, composed witch.

He smirked. “You’ve managed so far. We turned up three bodies at the guard post. They’re probably circling the main building. What do you need?”

“The blood of a wrong-doer,” she said. “Your assistant will do. He’s been stealing from you anyway.”

Tres wasted a moment looking pissed. “Fine!”

“I’ll also need a bucket, and a paintbrush,” she added dispassionately.

xXx

“Status Wolf.”

“ _Entrance, clear. Smooth. Moving to first gate_.”

“Roger. Ruby.”

“ _Side gate, clear. Smooth. Checking East hall._ ”

“Roger. Svorak.”

“ _South gate, clear. Tad rocky. Moving on to lower courtyard_.”

“Roger.” Christoph narrowed his eyes. “Scorpio?”

“ _West gate, clear. Smooth._ ” There was a touch of something like smugness to the tone, but then it was gone. “ _Moving through West hall. I think we’ve been noticed._ ” He chuckled.

“ _No shit_ ” came from several sources, various tones and most were amused.

“It was bound to happen,” the chemist answered, grinning. “Bloody Woman, we’re here…” he half sang.

xXx

The dead body of Tres’ assistant thumped to the floor before her, neck broken. She stood in the middle of the central auditorium--an impromptu cafeteria--barefoot and expressionless.

She accepted a knife from her employer, and ripped into the dead man’s chest, tearing out his heart. Tres made a gagging noise, but she ignored it, and smiled where he couldn’t see her.

The smile was quickly gone, and she put the heart into the bucket, then set it aside before dipping the paintbrush into the newly made hole in the body. And she started to write the symbols in a circle on the floor around them.

xXx

The blond chemist hummed under his breath and moved the pieces over the blueprint, noting the various statuses that came crackling in. Whatever resistance they encountered thus far had melted away, dealt with ruthless efficiency. He had already found a job that asked for this particular target, and though their force was a complete overkill, accepting the job meant they would have no outside interference. At least, ones that they knew of.

The team had tightened the circle and now collected around the main hub.

They had knocked.

It was time to meet the hosts.

“S’up bitches?” Christoph grinned. “Team, go.”


	15. Death, Blood, and Ammonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh... Surprise?

Tres watched her make the last symbol, and then jerked around as the door to his right – one of two into the room – was jerked open.

A man stumbled in, pale-faced. “ _It’s fucking over_ ,” he stammered in Russian, and collapsed, a dart in his back.

Arana just blinked at him, even as a masked figure stepped into the doorway. “Give it up,” he drawled. “We’ve got you surrounded, and your friends are dead.”

The other door opened, and another masked figure stood there, gun aimed at them.

Arana tilted her head. There wasn’t one sign of recognition. Dari cursed. “Kitty!”

“ _ **Duratus**_ ,” she replied, voice an echoing boom around the room.

Dari had ducked out just in time, and the spell lost contact. Wolf, at the other door, wasn’t so lucky. He’d been frozen stiff in place.

“Main hub, contact made.” Sheltered behind a door, Svorak hissed into the mic. “She’s not happy.”

“Kitty, it’s me!” Dari yelled into the room. “Me and your boys!”

She blinked slowly. “Boys?” she mumbled. “Kiddos…”

“That’s right, your boys,” Dari said, gritting his teeth. “Are you okay?”

“I told you not to follow me,” she deadpanned, face expressionless.

Dari's gaze darted toward Svorak, who was a few feet away. He swallowed, and peeked into the room. “Can’t we talk? You know, with _out_  the threat of you turning me into chicken fodder hanging over my head?”

She blinked again. “I won’t hurt you, Dari. But you need to leave.”

“Won’t hurt him?” Tres hissed, paling.

“Then let Wolf go!” Dari ordered. “He’s just a kid, Kitty.”

She turned her head, spying the frozen youth in the other doorway. “Oh. Sorry, kiddo.” Her spell snapped off, and she turned once Wolf was released, and took a step as if to go toward Dari.

But Tres, now in full on panic, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her backwards, toward the opposite wall where he could keep both doors in sight. “Come any closer and I’ll fucking cut her open!” he yelled, jerking her knife away. He put it to her throat. “Leave!”

To the side, Ruby stepped in next to Wolf, red eyes narrowed and lips thin. Wolf himself looked a little surprised, but still stood firm. Svorak shook his head slightly, swearing under his breath. “Goldie. All accounted for. Tres has Lady at knife point. Tres is the last of the opposition.”

There was a growl over the radio. “ _Tiger, take command. You’ve got the better eyes_.”

“Roger,” the merc acknowledged and stepped out into the room. “Dari take a step back, please. Ruby, Wolf,” blue eyes took in the counters and the tables around them, “ghost.” The two mercs at the other door nodded and slipped back several steps.

Then Svorak turned his attention on the main attraction. “Tres, we only want her.”

Tres snorted. “You think I’m fucking  _stupid_? I’m not getting out alive at this point, asshole,” he snapped. “'Less I got a little leverage, that is…”

Arana’s face was blank, and she said nothing. Secretly, she was hoping he never got around to cutting her. That would mean her secret was out, and that could  _not_  happen.

Ruby stepped back further while Wolf stayed still. She back up further up the hall and dropped into a side passage, unslinging the small pack she had on her back and ripping into it, pulling out slim parts and snapping them together. The sniper would only need a few seconds.

Svorak tilted his head, hands clearly at his sides, fingers spread, palms out. “And she is leverage,” he said quietly. “But  _she_  is also our target. You can walk your way out, if she’s left alive.” Christoph would whine, but Arana alive was worth one black spot on their record.

Tres laughed softly. “Your  _target_?” He smiled. “Funny. How ‘bout we do something a little different, jackass. You get your monkeys to back off, I leave with the witch, and I’ll leave her alive in the parking lot. Then you can do whatever the fuck you please with her. Get it?”

Svorak shrugged. “Sure.”

Down the hall, Ruby narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. Wolf turned his back on the situation and jogged up the hall towards her, nodding as she fell into step with him. “This is the shittiest job I’ve ever had to run around for,” he muttered as they made their way to Christoph’s location.

She shrugged. “You rigged the cars?”

Grey eyes rolled as they stepped over the front entrance guards. “Of course.”

Tres eyed them, but backed towards the now empty door. Arana stepped with him, expression closed. He stopped at the door, glancing out to find the hall apparently empty. Then he looked at the men in the room. “You really shouldn’t fucking cross me,” he snarled, and drew the blade across her throat before taking off.

“Arana!” Dari yelled, paling, and dashed past Svorak toward his partner.

“Blondie! Lady is down! Tres fled. Medic get your ass over here!” The merc barked into the mic as he ripped open a side pocket for gauze.

“ _Fuck_!” Christoph stabbed down on several channels. “Ruby, Wolf; Tres is fleeing. I want eyes on him now!” Surging up from the cover on the side road, the tall blond stalked towards the East entrance of the complex, one hand reaching down to the dart gun holstered at his thigh.

Svorak gazed down into dark eyes as the woman they had been tracking tried to gasp past the hot liquid flooding her throat. “Shit, shit, shit…” The blood poured out from between his fingers, the gauze uselessly soaking through.

Her fingers rose, as if reaching out for someone, something, and Dari grabbed her hand. “Arana…” The wound was fatal. He  _knew_  it was fatal. And Svorak had to know too. This wasn’t good. This was so very Not Good.

Her hand went limp as she lost consciousness, eyes rolling back into her head.

“Dammit! Doc,  _hurry up_!” Svorak grabbed her other wrist, feeling for a pulse.

But even as the stocky man pounded into the room, her pulse fluttered, slowed, faded. Svorak closed his eyes and barely felt it as Medic shoved him to the side. He staggered back to lean against the closest wall.

When he opened his eyes, the other man was shaking his head. ‘ _Her throat is slit. What did you expect_?’ Medic’s brown eyes said.

“Fuck.” The merc thumbed the mic. “Lady is gone.”

xXx

“ _Lady is gone_.”

For a moment, Christoph’s world lost focus.

“ _Tres spotted. East gate._ ” Ruby’s voice cut through the haze and threw his surrounding into sharp relief.

And Wolf narrowed it down to a hard monochrome point. “ _Baba, he’s coming straight towards you. Coming out of the gate… Now._ ”

The chemist didn’t bother to hide, to smirk, to speak. Tres emerged from the doorway exactly as foretold and stalled on the threshold, eyes widening.

It was a simple matter of raising his arm. He barely needed to think about aiming at twenty feet. The dart took Tres in the throat.

Christoph holstered the gun as he walked over to the shivering man.  _In four seconds, three, two, and there he goes_. Flat topaz eyes watched as Tres began to convulse.

Six seconds after that, the blond leaned over and touched the dead man’s pulse point.  _And that’s that._

“Tres is gone. Svorak, we’re collecting at Lady’s location.” The chemist closed his eyes for a moment. God-fucking  _dammit_.

Inside the auditorium, Dari watched her face, his own expressionless. He didn’t bother timing it. Apparently, it varied.  _Dammit, wish I could_ _ **move**_ _her!_  But there would be no point, right? No point in–

And then a pale, slim hand snapped up, fingers grabbing the closest wrist--Medic’s--as she sucked in a strangled breath. She bared her teeth, furious, tears of frustration springing up as the wound on her throat slowly sealed itself. Drai showed no surprise, but Medic swayed like he would fall over in shock.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screeched as soon as she was able.

“Damn,” the Arab whispered, as her secret was revealed. “Welcome back, Kitty.”

“Shit…” Medic breathed out, grabbing the wrist attached to the hand that wrapped around his. “You have a fucking pulse.”

A few steps away, Svorak slid down into a heap of Kevlar and matte-black gear, blue eyes wide. It took several tries, but he pressed cold fingers to the mic. “Belay that last order. Baba, come alone.”

He got two sharp “ _Rogers_ ” and a flat “ _Tiger_?” but he didn’t elaborate. How would he elaborate this? And what was  _this_?

‘This’ was a dead Arana swearing a blue streak while Medic was trying to understand a scientific miracle. The wound was gone. She obviously had blood in her, red as her face was. Her brain functions were working just dandy; she was speaking and gesturing– _profusely_ –in perfect coordination.

“Arana?” he called, seeing but not understanding.

Dari was rubbing a hand over his eyes in a resigned manner, even as she went perfectly still. The brunette sat up slowly, knocking Medic’s hands away. She turned around, and blinked at Svorak. “Um… I’m in trouble, huh?” she asked weakly.

The tall Arab groaned.

The merc stared at her. “Trouble?” he repeated blankly. “How is this trouble? You’re alive. That’s…”

“That’s  _insane_ ,” Medic completed for him, near vibrating with the need to  _know_. “How is this possible?”

“Tiger?”

Svorak had a bare moment to twist around, and then Christoph was frozen at the doorway on the far side of the room.

“Lady?” the blond blinked, frowned. “But…” the tall man turned to glare at the merc on the floor. “You said that she was gone!” There was a whole wealth of emotion in that one statement.

“Aah…” Svorak opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut when nothing useful came out. “She… was,” he finally uttered softly.

Christoph shook his head and looked at the woman on the floor between Medic and Scorpio. And he finally saw the blood. On her. On the floor. On Svorak’s hands and on Medic’s. But there was no wound. “Lady?” he repeated, sounding completely lost.

Her whole expression crumbled at the look on his face, and she stumbled to her feet, nearly falling over but righting herself in time. “Chr- I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know,” she murmured, heartbroken. “I didn’t… I couldn’t…  Dari found out… But I didn’t… I didn’t want you two… you to know.” She stopped, halfway between Chris and where she’d been. Eyes slipped closed. “Remember when I was nailed to that wall? You said I’d almost died, that it was a fluke you got there before I did… I was there for a week and a half. I died four times, before you found me.”

Dari looked up, eyes wide, and then they narrowed furiously. She hadn’t mentioned that.

“And… Those burns… They were on my chest too. Killed me.” She shook her head. “When we met? Shinigami’d shot me right in the head. Freaked out and jumped out a window after I stood back up.” She took a step toward the blond, then stopped and slumped to her knees. “I didn’t want you to know… You shouldn’t know…”

The chemist swayed a little where he stood. His partner’s position by the wall made complete sense now. In the past few minutes, the world just couldn’t decide how it wanted to be.

“You died?” Those words didn’t match with reality. She was right there. Breathing, talking, emotional and stuttering. Bringing one hand up to his eyes, Christoph took a moment to empty his mind. “Tiger?”

There was a grunt, and then, “Yeah?”

“This real?”

“‘Parently.”

The tall man dropped his hand and turned his head to lock eyes with his lover. “Swear?” he asked.

Blue eyes blinked, and Svorak sighed. “Swear. Holy shit.”

Staggering a little on numb limbs, Christoph knelt in front of Arana. He brought up one gloved finger and traced her cheek. “You’re alive,” he said in awe, eyes searching and memorizing her features.

“Medic,” Svorak’s voice snapped out. “Shut up and sit down.”

Medic sat down.

Arana nodded slowly. “Yes. Forever, and ever, and ever,” she said. The dam broke, and she lowered her chin, hair falling over her face to hide the silent tears that fell down her face.

“Oh, fucking Christ,” he murmured. “No, don’t cry.” Long arms wrapped around her and drew her close and rocked her. “God, woman. You’ve already got us whipped. What more do you want?”

“Whiskey, for a start,” she muttered, laughing hoarsely, and hugged him back tightly. She was trembling slightly, despite her bravado.

Dari coughed. “Well, um… We should… probably move the party to another location. That isn’t criminally indicative. And covered with her blood.” He paused, glancing off to the side. “And some random dead guy.”

Off by the wall, Svorak grunted and heaved himself to his feet. A long moment later, Medic was also rising, a large white bottle clutched in one hand and his kit stowed on his back.

“Man’s got a point,” Svorak muttered, then thumbed the mic. “Lady is up and moving. Call it a medical miracle. Regroup at base.”

Medic rolled his eyes, already falling back into his usual role. “Folks may want to move away from the blood, I need to clean up.”

“Don’t bother,” Svorak told him. “We’re leveling the place.”

“Call it professional pride,” Medic snarled back, upending the bottle of chemicals over the spread of red.

“Okay… Let’s not piss off the doctor, please,” Christoph murmured as he straightened up with Arana still clutched in his arms. “Dari? Come over here please.”

Dari rolled to his feet gracefully and strode over–around the mess on the floor–to stop beside them. “What do you need?” he asked, eyes sweeping over her in concealed worry.

The blond flashed him a wobbly grin. “You’ll do,” he said and promptly set Lady down on her feet in front of the Arab. “I have my own partner to hold together. But,” he pointed a finger, tip barely brushing her nose, “you are not running off until the whiskey is gone.”

She chuckled. “Sure thing, angel-face,” she replied dryly. “Could use a little revelry.”

The grin firmed up and he gave them both a nod before turning on his heel, striding towards Svorak who was standing and staring blankly at the pool of blood and ammonia.

“… odd guy,” Dari mused thoughtfully.

Snorting, she turned around, reaching up and dragging the Arab down for a well-needed kiss. Dari grinned through the kiss, and swept her off her feet.


	16. Consider the Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no force greater than a willing assent.

Half an hour later, the Arab set her down on her feet just inside ‘base’, and Arana glanced around.

Last time it had been a hotel, but this time it was a house. Large open living room, a giant fireplace, plain whitewashed walls, huge bay windows with actual curtains, a cream-tiled kitchen, and several worn couches. Everything was clean too. And warm. The only odd thing was that were no decorations and no other furniture but the couches and a lone table with an odd number of chairs. She could only assume there were beds somewhere.

“Nice place,” she muttered, though it was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

“It’s the furthest thing we could find from a warehouse,” Christoph told her, walking past.

“I hate warehouses,” his partner muttered as he followed, pushing Medic ahead of him.

The last two, Ruby and Wolf, said nothing, simply dragging their gear into the house and vanishing up the stairs.

“Me too,” Arana mumbled. She pulled away from Dari and walked over to the couch, plopping down. “I’m sorry.” Her face was turned toward the fireplace, eyes sweeping over it. “I keep putting you two through so much crap.”

Dari took off his shoes and walked over to sit next to her, frowning faintly. She always ended up doing this. The apologizing.

The chemist walked out of the kitchen, holding a couple of beers and a whiskey bottle. He handed a bottle to Medic--who nodded to them all before heading for the kitchen--kept one for himself, and set the whiskey down by her elbow. “Stop running away,” he said shrugging. “We’ll always be chasing after you anyway, and it’s just easier if you stay with your partner if not the whole group.”

“Not that we’re forcing you into some kind of marriage,” Svorak added, leaning over the back of the couch to hand her a glass. “But fucking tell us when you run into trouble.”

She smiled faintly, accepting the glass. “Well, by the time I’m in it, it’s too late, and trouble never gives me  _time_  anyway.” She took the whiskey bottle and poured a glass, offering it to the Arab, who shook his head. She looked at the drink in her hand. “You boys are sweet on me. I’d  _like_  to stick around… I just… I keep…” She sighed.

“How long have you known them?” Dari asked, brows lifting. When she didn’t answer, he snorted. “A while, then. And they’re still alive.”

“So far.”

“Bull.”

Dark and pale brows rose. Svorak shrugged a little. “Dari, what do you like to drink?” he asked, moving off the couch back.

The tall dark man glanced at him. “You don’t have it,” he replied. “A beer’ll be fine. Thanks.”

Barking out a laugh, Svorak grinned. “Geez, make me feel inadequate. I’ll get you that beer.”

Christoph smiled and watched as his partner sauntered back to the kitchen, then brought his gaze back down, bouncing between the Arab and the… Mentally, the chemist shrugged and settled on ‘woman’. “Dari knows this,” he drawled, “but maybe you don’t realize. No offense, Lady, but our profession doesn’t have retirement packages. We don’t usually live very long. So whatever we can get, we grab.”

Lifting a hand, he waved between himself and the kitchen. “It took me five years to convince Svorak he couldn’t just walk away from me out of fear that I would disappear. I have full faith that Dari would chase you for even longer. According to Medic, the big lug worries about me when I’m not around  _and_ when I’m in danger. Especially after he realized I was actively hunting him down.”

The blond took a drag on the bottle and frowned for a moment. “There’s safety in numbers, but there’s never a guarantee. Only, if you have something precious, you hold on to it. Cuz it never lasts. So, grab the time while you can.”

“I plan on it,” Dari added, quietly, eying her.

For a long time, she didn’t say a word. It was long enough that Svorak returned with Dari's beer, and the ice in her glass melted. The others shifted, the blond and his lover speaking softly off to the side. Her partner relaxed against the couch with a resigned sigh.

And then she sighed. “Could I… stay with you a while?” she asked, voice just loud enough for the two somewhere behind her to hear.

The men leaning against the back of the couch traded glances. Christoph nudged his partner with a hip and murmured, “Is she asking us?”

The other man shrugged, “She should know she doesn’t have to.”

“You know, she’ll drink your whiskey stash dry right?”

Svorak gaped at his lover for a moment, then: “Naw, she’s probably talking to Dari. I mean, sex. Helloo.”

The blond reached out and thwacked the other over the head. “Not everything is about sex.”

There was a very long pause.

“Alright. _Perhaps,_  she’s asking Dari. I can't be sure. Wait and see?”

“That was the plan.”

And the two of them lapsed into silence. Neither had turned to look at the pair on the couch.

The Arab watched her, blinking bemusedly, also wondering much the same thing… and then he nearly fell over in shock as she suddenly burst into a fit of helpless giggles. Chuckling, okay. Short laughter, sure. Giggles? Not Arana.

“That was a general question,” she gasped out after a moment, aware they were all staring. “As in all three of you.”

Svorak snorted and Christoph twisted around to give her an arch look. “You expect Dari to live in the same zip code as this guy?” he asked, jerking his chin at his lover.

“Not to mention, you're not exactly quiet,” Svorak retorted, narrowing his eyes on the blond.

The chemist straightened in mock affront and glared at the man at his side. “Excuse me?”

Rolling his eyes, the black man arched his back to look past his partner and straight at Arana and her Arab. “If Dari's fine with it, then yes,” he answered finally. “But only if he brings in that drink he likes so much,” he added with a grin.

Dari's brows lifted when she looked at him, and he smiled faintly. “I know a guy,” he said thoughtfully. “Can import.”

Her entire expression lit up like a Christmas tree. “That’s a yes?”

“Yes,” Dari said, and snorted. “Like I could tell you no.”

There was a cough from Svorak, and then a wheeze as the taller man elbowed him.

Christoph turned with a wide smile. “Welcome to the household then!” He lifted his bottle as his partner grumbled and lifted his own tumbler.

Smirking, Dari nodded, lifting his beer lazily, while she hopped up and lifted her own glass before guzzling it. Then she smiled. “I feel like cooking,” she said thoughtfully.

Behind her, Dari choked on his drink and shook his head quickly and hard at the other two, flailing a bit. ‘ _NO! NO!_ ’ he mouthed.

One man smiled wide. The other taller one opened his mouth. “I think Dari is offering to taste test.”

She turned, smirking at her lover, who looked like he might decide to launch himself straight off a bridge. He jumped up. “Pizza! On me. Many as you want, Arana!”

“Even twenty?”

He winced. “Yes, even twenty.”

“Get twenty.”

“Alright.”


	17. Reminders of Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything happens to just Lady. But she'd prefer it that way...

_Two years and four months later, January 20_ _th_ _Manhattan City…_

“ _Tiger_?”

The world swam in streaks of colour and jagged sounds.

“ _Status, Tiger_?”

The ground was cold. The air was cold. Body of ice, frozen solid. Little wonder it was hard to breathe.

“ _RESPOND SOLDIER_!”

 _Soldier_? Spots of grey danced and swirled in random patterns.  _I haven’t been a soldier for… so many years_. Decades almost. Discharged for mutiny. Fucking captain was insane.  _Ordering us to our deaths when all we needed to do was hold the line._

“Svorak!”

Moving hurt, breathing hurt. The only thing that didn’t, was thinking. Memories.

“Shit! Baba, I’ve found him. South courtyard. Clear. Tiger is down. Medic get over here! He’s half frozen.”

Funny how the young ones yelled so much.

_Goldie, did we ever have that much energy?_

“I have a pulse… Fuck, the blood is frozen to him…”

The world scattered and fell. The grey spots followed as all faded.

xXx

Outside the door, Ruby stood guard, spine straight, eyes sharp. The tense presence of her partner paced up and down the hall.

In front of her, another pair of partners waited in silence. The English woman and her Arab. Neither were allowed into the room behind her. Medic had been adamant on that.

Simon paced by another time and she could swear she could hear the grinding of his teeth. She had already denied him entry. Not that she could blame him. She was barely keeping herself from leading the charge into the room. Her mentor was in there. Both of her mentors. One in pain, the other in anguish. But emotion would not help her now. And Medic would only throw her back out.

And so Ruby stood guard. And waited like the rest.

 _Tiger burning bright._ In a deep dark corner, she prayed, _Come back._

Suddenly, the brunette snapped something, a low growl in a different language (Arabic). Her companion’s shuttered eyes darted toward her. He made a low-voiced reply, somehow making it a drawl, and merely shrugged when she glared at him.

The woman abruptly plopped down on the floor, sitting Indian style, and let her eyes slide closed. Almost immediately, her face settled into non-expression, her entire body melting into a slumped relaxed pose. Her partner shifted closer, gaze darting to the pacing boy, then the guarding girl, and finally back to the door. Where he’d been staring almost without blinking for the past… what was it. Hour? Two? Less?

The stare was unnerving, regardless.

On the other side of the door, there were three men. One stretched out on a bed, riddled with tubes and wires, connected to machines that recorded and supported his life. The other two men breathed on their own, but that was little comfort.

“Svorak…” A broken voice was whispering as the owner’s pale hands clasped around a limp dark one. “C’mon. It’s just a cold.”

Medic’s lips were pressed thin as he went through the checks again. Surgery was already over, where he had cut away the dead tissue and layered medication and cloth on open wounds. The left eye was a lost cause, but the arms and legs could be saved, fingers too, miraculously. The man just needed to breathe on his own.

His sigh brought Christoph’s head up and around to him, but the doctor could only offer a grim smile. “Give him the night to rest,” he said softly. “He’ll wake up on his own tomorrow.” If he didn’t, the lug was going to find a shot of adrenaline to his heart as a wake up call.

The chemist looked at the breathing tube down his lover’s throat and swallowed reflexively. “Sure,” he said wearily, then dredged up a smile from somewhere deep. “Let the others in, eh? Or at least tell them his status.”

Scowling, Medic looked at his one patient. Rest was better, but when Svorak woke, he wouldn’t be thanking him for a mentally unstable team. “Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll do both.”

A moment later, the short man emerged from the room, stoically weathering the feeling as several gazes locked onto him as he closed the door.

“He’s alive,” Medic said firmly, “but he’s asleep.” His eyes narrowed. “And he needs to stay asleep for the rest of the night. He’s lost an eye, but everything else is relatively intact. He’s on the breathing tube right now, but that will change. Don’t jar him. Don’t bother him. Don’t shake him awake. Don’t touch the bandages,” he growled. “Visitors can go in. But  _be quiet_ ,” he finally announced grudgingly. Then he abruptly turned and stalked down the hall to the kitchen.

Ruby stood stock still, red eyes wide.  _They could go in_? Her partner closed in on her, warm palms on her bare shoulders.

“Ruby,” he said urgently. “Medic said we can visit.”

She blinked at him. “Yes.”

“Let’s go in.”

“Okay.”

She opened the door, and the two of them slipped in.

Dari nudged Arana. “You hear that? Go on. I’ll stick around out here and keep an eye on things. Goldie Locks could probably use your company.”

She got up stiffly, and turned, giving him a brief kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you,” she said, and followed in the kid's wake.

Her eyes landed on Chris, and she edged around everyone–and everything–to stand by him. Her gaze finally trailed to the man on the bed, and she swallowed hard.  _My fault_ , echoed through her, followed by,  _ **No**_ _. Just a horrible situation._  “Oh, kiddo,” she whispered.

The pale man by the bed freed one hand from his lover’s to wrap an arm around her waist. “He’s fine,” he said softly, for her, and for the two young ones on the other side of the bed. “He’ll be pissed about the eye,” the blond admitted lightly, “but he’ll live.”

Across the bed, Ruby’s fingers twisted into the sheets, knuckles white. She had shot the bastard. She'd seen him go down. But later, the body wasn’t there. Svorak had gone to check for it. He had joked about there being another immortal loose in the world. She had scoffed, sure that the corpse must have fallen into a drift, hidden by the snow. But her mentor had smiled and left anyway.

Simon had found them both; a dead thug pierced by a knife and a bullet, and a half-frozen team leader gasping at the sky.

She had shot the bastard. Why hadn’t he died then?

Thick arms wrapped around her as the girl bowed her head and shivered.

Arana lifted her gaze, eyes softening on the child ( _far too young for this kind of life, why isn’t she in school, snogging with boys?_ ) before turning away to give her privacy. Dark eyes met those of the blond, and she gave him a smile every bit as forced as his own. “How’re you doing, angel-face? I can send Dari for coffee, if you want.”

The hand at her hip squeezed once and then lifted away. Christoph rubbed the freed hand over his eyes and nodded gratefully. “Coffee would be wonderful, Lady. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight anyway.” The hand drifted back to join the ones on the bed.

Whispers from Wolf drifted in the room, as all others fell silent. Then Ruby lifted her head, shining trails streaking her cheeks. “Come back to us, Svorak,” she prayed aloud. “Love, laugh, live.”

Bowing once more, she reached out a small dainty hand and touched the side of face not swathed in gauze before nodding to the other two older team members. “Please tell us if there are any changes or any needs,” the sniper quietly requested and then left, Wolf trailing behind her.

“Those kids are so weird,” Christoph murmured after a moment, when the door had shut and the footsteps had moved away. “You’d never have though the girl cared that much,” he added absently.

“Girls do that,” she said wryly, and left a small kiss on his forehead. Then she edged her way to the door and poked her head out, murmuring with Dari. The door shut, she snagged a small folding chair in the corner, and set it up beside Chris. She smiled faintly. “When he comes back in, call him ‘Mr. Maid’. He said so.”

A corner of the blond’s mouth lifted. “Huh,” he said, very quietly, and then with slow dignity, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against a very still arm. Christoph breathed in deep once, and it shuddered all the way out. “He’s an idiot. A careless, arrogant, swaggering idiot.”

Arana sighed. “Yes, he’s just awful,” she replied sarcastically. “He’ll be okay, love. He’ll bounce back. He always does, always will.” She gave him a smile, even though he couldn’t see it from his position.

Those wide shoulders lifted once, and the chemist shook his head, “Oh, I don’t know. Calling himself ‘Mr Maid’, is pushing the boundaries.” He straightened, one hand going up to drag long hair from his eyes when he turned to look at her properly. “But, thank you. You’re right.”

“We talking about Dari or Svorak here, dear?” she asked, brows lifting. “‘Cause you seem to be bouncing between the two.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Bad joke,” he admitted. “I’m holding on by a rotting edge. Can’t decide whether to worry or to have faith. Grasping for both.” He blew out a sigh. “But Medic says he’ll be fine. So he’ll be fine. But knowing doesn’t make the waiting any easier.”

The tall man held a hand up between the two of them, and they both watched the fine tremors along his long fingers. With a twist of the lips, Christoph brought his hand back down to wrap around Svorak’s.

She bit back a sigh and stood. “Here,” she murmured, moving behind him and gingerly touching his shoulders. “A massage.” And she started to rub them.

Tensing at first, the blond sighed and relaxed, dropping his head down between his arms. “The big lout is going to be so embarrassed when he finds out we were all worried,” he muttered. “Rather looking forward to that, actually.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Me too, kiddo.” She looked up as the door opened and Dari stepped inside. “Thanks.”

The Arab shrugged smoothly, holding two mugs of coffee. “Where do you want it, Goldie Locks?”

One hand came up to pat on Lady’s hands. “I’m good, thanks,” he said smiling and reaching out towards Dari. “I’ll take it, thank you.”

Dari handed one over, and then gave Arana the other one. She smirked. “Thanks, Mr. Maid.” He made a face at her before leaving again, and she chuckled. “Never gets old…”

“Mmm, I imagine not,” he agreed, taking a sip of the caffeine concoction. “Hello, brandy,” he murmured.

A few minutes passed in peace, the two sipping spiked coffee in silence, save for the beeps of the heart monitor.

Finally the blond spoke. “Dari is going to get lonely,” he commented, thinking of how the partners had become nigh inseparable over the past two years. “You can come back once he’s asleep.”

She hesitated, then dropped a sisterly kiss onto his crown, and turned away. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, angel-face.”

“Thank you.”

The door clicked closed behind her, and the blond took another sip as he looked at his partner. “I think you have a fan club, Tiger.”  _You wouldn’t believe how torn up Ruby is. Simon too._

Which was understandable, since Wolf had been the one to find Svorak. Christoph still remembered how the young man’s voice had cracked over the radio.

“You’re going to be so mothered when you wake up,” the chemist vowed. “And you’re going to shut up, and take it all with dignity.”  _You just have to wake up. You have to._

Cradling the half-full mug in his hands, Christoph settled in for a long night of watching his lover sleep.


	18. Finding Lucy 1/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then when things do happen to her, everyone else is just uncomfortable. Well, 'cept for Medic.

Dari hung upside down from the rafters of the building, some official place that was closed down for the night, despite the worried scientist that paced back and forth. He peered at the man, single braid dangling past his head. His legs were hooked around the metal, holding him steady from years of practice.

He tapped his mic. “Shinigami, Kitty’s on the move,” he murmured.

There was a brief pause, then, “ _I see her. Target’s in sight._ ”

xXx

Blue eyes blinked at her reflection. “Are you sure this is wise, Ember?” the blonde asked, looking up from the compact in her hand.

The ginger shrugged, peering through a set of binoculars. “ _Ah. Found ‘em. One so far, moving toward the Principal. Take her out, Dollie,_ ” was the response.

The blonde dropped her compact and took swift aim. Not a moment’s hesitation before she pulled the trigger.

xXx

“ _Shit, Kitty’s been taken out!_ ” Shinigami snapped in his ear, sounding half-panicked.

“Do  _not_  move from your location!” Dari hissed. “Stay where you are. Kitty is fine.”

“ _… damn. We got guards?_ ”

“Cover fire. Find them and remove them from the equation.”

“ _Roger_.”

xXx

“ _Why isn’t the Principal moving?_ ” the ginger’s voice demanded in Lucy’s ear.

The blonde shrugged. “Dunno. Find out.”

“ _I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to move. Your cover is blown. Get down there and get the Principal out,_ ” ginger ordered.

Lucy rolled her eyes before scooping up her compact. “Okay, okay, going.” She packed up the sniper gun with brief efficiency and slunk into the shadows.

xXx

The com crackled. “ _Sighted her, but she’s gone_ ,” Shinigami said, and swore in Japanese. “ _I’ve lost her. Little person. Light hair. Probably female. Couldn’t tell very well_.”

Dari scowled, watching as Arana stirred on the ground near the target, nearly giving the man a heart attack. “Find her, or him, and remove them. Are there any others?”

“ _None that I’ve found_ ,” Shinigami replied. “ _But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any_.”

xXx

Arana stumbled to her feet, eyes locked on the target, and grinned. “Hello, I’m the ghost of Christmas past. Boo.”

The man shrieked and stumbled away. “No!” he yelled.

xXx

“ _What the_ _ **FUCK?**_ _!_ ”

“Eh?” Lucy jogged through a door, careful to keep as many things between her and open space as possible. “What’s going on?”

“ _The female just got back up. You sure you shot her?_ ” ginger demanded furiously.

“Right in the temple. There’s no way she’s still alive.”

“ _Well, if she’s_ _ **yokai**_ _…_ ”

“English, english,” Lucy grumped. And then she caught sight of the Principal again, and blue eyes widened on the brunette stumbling toward him. “Wow, I was right. Bullet right to the temple. Medical mystery, maybe.”

“ _ **Yokai**_ _,_ ” was the only response.

xXx

“We are taking out any witnesses,” Dari barked. “Any and all. Our guard, the target, and anyone else.”

“ _Roger_.”

But then Arana was stopping. Head turning slowly. Her mouth dropped open, in a silent shriek. She was shot again, and went down. The target was looking in the same direction Arana had been, and edged toward the area…

“ _Taking the shot_.”

“Do it.”

xXx

“ _Shit. Principal is down, Dollie, pull out_ ,” ginger ordered. “ _Meet you at the designated spot_.”

“Got it,” Lucy said, eyes lingering on the brunette she’d shot. Why did she look so familiar? And why did Lucy think that she’d thought the same thing…?

xXx

Dari hurried into base, carrying Arana with their teammate following behind uneasily. “Medic!” the Arab yelled, shouldering through the door and into the medical room. “She’s got two bullets in her head. They have to be removed.”

Luckily, the only people there were Christoph and Svorak, whom was still recovering.

Shinigami lingered by the door, loath to approach anyone really, but a little curious about the bullet wounds.

The stocky medic’s eyebrows popped up, but he gestured at the bed nearby and yanked over his nastier tool trolley. “So,” he drawled, trying to hide his excitement. “Crack open the skull, fish around for bits of metal, and close her back up.” He shook his head. “Amazing.”

A few feet away, Christoph’s expression darkened. “Medic,” he growled.

Helping the Arab lay the woman out on the bed, Medic didn’t bother to turn around. “This is not experimentation,” he retorted. “This is surgery. The type I don’t usually bother with. Now, shut up.” The doctor raced to the bathroom, where he scrubbed down his arms and tugged on the sterile gloves.

Shinji’s gaze flicked around, brows lifting slightly. His expression said surprise at the existence of the place, but he didn’t open his mouth. Dari frowned, for once visibly furious. “Hurry up, Medic! She’s gonna keep reviving and dying until you get that shit out of her head!”

“And if I give her an infection  _in the head,_  she’s going to be a walking corpse for a month,” Medic snarled as he emerged from the side room. He glanced at the woman who was lying face down. “Good, good,” he muttered while he grabbed a needle and plunged it into her neck, pumping her full of sedatives. “You’re very lucky we know your brain will self-construct,” he told her conversationally as he snagged various lines and tubes. “I don’t have to keep you awake for this.”

Her signal registered on the machines, fluctuating, dimming, fading, only to surge to life seconds later. Doc ignored the heart monitor for the most part, lowering the volume to a sullen low tweet.

“I wonder how fast her hair will grow back,” the man mused, cutting and shaving away the entire crop of brown. Pausing, Medic looked up at the crowd in the room. “You, you, and you. _Out._ ”

Christoph blinked, but exited without a fuss, though he shot the doctor a frown.

Shinji actually pouted, but left. Her safety wasn’t really his business, and Dari was stalking out moodily anyway. “Shinigami,” the Arab barked, and when the slightly older male lifted both brows, he relented. “Nice shooting.”

Shinji beamed. “Thanks! Mononoke-san gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” Dari heaved a worried sigh anyway. “She’ll be pissed about the hair, though.”

“Heh.” He glanced at Christoph. “Your friend looked familiar. Have I seen him around somewhere?”

Wincing a bit as the sound of a drill, the blond frowned for a moment. “We’ve been around for a good long while,” he said shrugging. “It’s possible.”

Shinji shrugged. “I’m Isoto. Nice ta meet ya,” he said cheerfully.

Dari wondered how the guy managed to be so…  _ew_. He must inhale frosted flakes first thing in the morning. And a shit-ton of coffee.

The crack of bone reverberated through the door.

Looking a little bemused, the tall blond nodded. “Christoph.” He looked at the room he had just been vacated from. “It’s strange not having to worry about a head surgery.”

Shinji eyed the door as well. “I’d rather not have to  _hear_  it,” he said.

Dari snorted. “I have some nice stuff, imported from back home. It’s called… well, the English translation is ‘Poison’, roughly. It’s an alcoholic drink. Want some?”

The Jap blinked at him. “Er… sure…”

“Unless you can’t hold your alcohol–” Dari started.

“Oi. That’s not fair. Show me this  _Poison_ ,” Shinji said, remarkably easy to rile.

The Arab smirked knowingly and lead the way to the kitchen.

Declining the offer for a drink, Christoph sat back on the couch and considered the door. It wasn’t so much worry as it was respect that kept him there waiting. Just because she couldn’t die, didn’t mean he wouldn’t care. Waiting there meant that he heard every crunch of bone, squelch of soft tissue, and soft exclamation from Medic as the doctor literally went poking through Lady’s head.

Besides a few twitches at the louder comments, the chemist managed to stay in his seat. Thankfully, even though Lady revived several times, she stayed unconscious.

At some point though, his partner woke up…


	19. Finding Lucy 2/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconnecting the drifting pieces...

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU  _DOING_?!”

Christoph chuckled.  _Talk fast Medic. Talk very fast._

Dari seemed to materialize at the shout. “What happened?” he said, eyes wide, but then he heard Medic’s hasty summary, and relaxed. “Oh.”

“Oi, teme, where’d you go?” Shinji asked, appearing in the door. “She done yet?”

“Patience, light-weight,” the Arab retorted. “Go find some crackers.”

“Pfft. Whatever.” The Jap disappeared out of the door again.

Focusing on the rapid words of the doc in the room interspersed with the short growling tones of Tiger, caused the blond to relax. If Svorak wasn’t ripping Medic’s head off, then the smaller man was keeping within the limits.

The first clatter of a sniper bullet in a metal dish had him breathing out in a sigh.  _Good. That’s one_. Inside the room, Svorak swore, long and colourfully. Medic rounded on him with a harsh, “Shut it!”

Christoph shook his head and waited for the second bullet.

Dari frowned and started to pace, diverting Shinji back to the kitchen once more, when the man popped in asking about sweet stuff. Privately, he didn’t think Shinji  _needed_  anything sugary, but if it kept the man out of his hair… well.

The second they heard the second  _ping_  and clunk of the last bullet, he plopped onto the couch and sunk into it bonelessly, sighing. “They’re out…”

“Finally,” the blond added, then considered their vibrating guest who had almost pranced up the hall to join them. “Lady mentioned a Shinigami shooting her in the head before. Was that you?”

Shinji shifted under his gaze. “Er… Yeah…” he mumbled, looking uncomfortable. “She uh… Was a contract. Shot her, but she got back up and started threatening to turn me into things… toads and stuff.” He rubbed his cheek, looking away. “I panicked and jumped out the window. She’s scary!”

Dari blinked. “You jumped out a window?  _Really_?!”

“Yes!” the Jap snapped back at the Arab. “Lady just popped up, like a daisy! I wasn’t sticking around to see if she’d eat my face off!”

“You are a fucking  _wuss_ ,” Dari returned, scoffing.

Lifting a hand to still the bantering, the chemist questioned Shinji. “The bullet went straight through? She got up? How long did that take?”

Shinji nodded. “Yeah, bullet passed through clean. I usually collect them after the body’s down, but I didn’t since she was doing the zombie thing… Er… She was up in a few seconds, maybe half a minute at most,” he said, brows furrowing. “Why?”

The blond offered him a thin smile. “We’ve seen burns, blood loss, sliced throats, exposure, this is the first for brain damage. Medic is sure her body will rearrange the brain mass back to normal, but I’d like to have reassurance.”

Shinji blinked, thought about it, and perked. “Ohhh! Well, she seemed fine. Went to try again a couple of hours later, she was passed out bloody on the floor of some ho-” He stopped. Gaze flickered toward the door into the other room. “Oooh. That’s where I saw him. Yeah, your friend there was in the hotel hall when I went back for her. Was gonna let me at her and everything, but she woke up and did her freaky demon trick.”

“Sounds about right,” Christoph murmured. So, Lady will be up and active literally as soon as the Medic closed her skull.

There was a thread of Svorak’s voice, the tone questioning. Medic grumbled something back. The muted voices buffered by the door.

Three heartbeats later, the stocky man opened the door. “Head’s done. You guys can come in.” He shook his head in wonder, eyes dancing. “Her skin closed up tight as I watched. Didn’t even need stitching,” the doc murmured. He disappeared back into the room, leaving the way open.

Dari was already up and moving, though Shinji hung back. The Arab stepped into the room, eyes locked on her lax face. Her eyes were closed as if she was asleep. He moved over to her side and took her hand, waiting.

Behind him, Christoph walked past to return to Svorak’s side, the two men trading a speaking glance. Svorak sneered for a moment, before subsiding. “Medic was way too happy,” he reported softly.

His partner sighed. “It’s an old argument.”

Grimacing, the other merc grunted. “Yeah.” Lifting his voice a little, Svorak spoke to the Arab. “The sedatives have been shut off, she should be waking soon.”

Dari nodded. “Yeah…”

Arana’s face shifted from peaceful to annoyed, and her eyes opened slowly. “I feel worried looks,” she deadpanned, and winced. “Ouch. What happened?”

“Bullet to the head,” Dari reported. “Two. The asshole got away, though.”

She gave him a look of mild confusion. “Two? I… that’s right, I revived…” She shook her head.

“Simply amazing,” Medic marveled from the bathroom entrance. “Speech, sight, recognition, flawless memory reconstruction, intact personality…”

Two sharp gazes from the far side of the room had him scowling. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving!” And he stalked out of the room. There was a snarl on the other side of the door as he encountered Shinigami, but that was it.

“What was that about not angering the medic?” Svorak teased Christoph.

The blond huffed. “You’re as guilty as I am.”

“So long as he doesn’t try to turn her purple,” Dari muttered, even as he felt Arana tense. He looked at her. “You okay…?”

“Lucy…” Memory had fully returned. Icy sapphire eyes, a gun lifting, yellow pigtails ending in curls. And no recognition. Just chilly professionalism. “It was Lucy.”

The Arab blinked. “Eh? What was Lucy? Like your sister?”

“The shooter. It was Lucy,” she said, sitting up and trying to move off the bed.

“Oy, lay down,” he protested, shoving her back again. “You musta been seeing things–”

“I know my own sister, jackass!” she snapped furiously.

“Hoy…” Svorak called from the other bed. “If she says it was Lucy, it was Lucy. It’s not like we don’t have stranger things in this room.”

Beside him, his blond partner tilted his head in thought. “It sounds like we have a conflict of interest though,” he added. Tapping the side of his head with two fingers, he looked at Lady. “She didn’t know you?”

She thought back, and shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think so.”

Dari sighed. “Shinigami!” he called, and when the Jap poked his head inside, continued. “Describe the shooter you saw again, in as much detail as you can remember.”

Shinji stepped fully into the room, brows furrowing. “Um, small, probably female. Dressed in all black, light hair–maybe blonde, white, or light red, it was dark, so I couldn’t tell for sure. The hair was up in tails on both sides of the head.” He hummed, rocking back and forth on his heels with his usual energy. “Had a sniper case. Caucasian.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“If it  _was_  her, she was working for the opposition, Kitty,” Dari pointed out, frowning. “And she didn’t recognize you.”

“Hmm, working for the opposite side yes, but probably now without a contract,” Christoph pointed out. “Since their charge is now obsolete. Perhaps introductions are in order to jar a few memories?”

“She’s not going to be another immortal, Goldie,” Svorak countered, then blinked as honey-brown eyes swung around to meet his one blue. “What?”

His lover lifted a brow. “Maybe it’s reincarnation,” he proposed, turning back to regard Lady. “Is that possible?”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “I’ve never seen any evidence to prove it, but of course that means there’s no disproving it either,” she admitted. “But if that’s true, then how could she possibly remember me?”

“The grace of the gods?” Shinji offered, and shrunk back at her sour look. “Sorry…”

Dari patted her arm. “We’ll find her, see if she’s approachable or not. Okay?”

She huffed. “Fine.”

“You may not find a sister,” Christoph told her, “but you may make another friend.”

Lying back down on the bed, the dark-skinned merc snorted. “Just watch, she’ll be just as invincible as all of us.”

“Maybe,” Arana mumbled. “But Lucy was always frail…”

“Doesn’t mean she is now,” Dari inserted stubbornly, poking her in the side.

Shinji coughed. “Er… I’m gonna go get the pay…” He shrugged.

Arana snorted and looked at Dari, who frowned back at her. Her brows furrowed and he pursed his lips. Finally, he huffed and shook his head. “Hey, guys, keep an eye on her?” He smirked at Svorak, who lifted a single finger in response, before quickly escaping.

Arana face-palmed.

Chuckling, Christoph leaned over and kissed the frown between his lover’s brows. “ _I_  think the eye-patch is sexy.”

A dark hand came up to swat his shoulder. “Fuck you,” was the embarrassed response.


	20. Workplace Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, the kids do have work to do. See? Also - enter Mr. Ultimate Pretty Boy.

For a greasy disgusting pig-eyed blob of an employer, the man had a very cute son. Ngai Mun dragged her eyes away from her charge yet again and thought guiltily of Simon back at base. Wolf just didn’t have the hair or the eyes or the cheekbones…

Her partner definitely had more muscle though, she gloated. But ooh… the way this man talked. Silk and chocolate and rich cream. Simon was a rough sweetie, much like a younger version of Tiger, but he wasn’t suave.

Not that she wanted to switch. God no. But just having the Triad boss’ son around made her want to  _taste_. Bloody hell, Mengyao was sexy.

And she had to tear her gaze away from his ass again, and fight down a blush as his amused brown eyes met hers.

Goddamnit. Caught.  _Again_.

By the door, Amaya was resisting the urge to roll her eyes.  _Kids_. At least Lucy wasn’t- She sighed. Lucy wasn’t eying the boy, no. She was eying the piano, with a longing look on her face.

The bottled redhead reached over and pinched her blonde partner, who jerked away and blinked at her. Then she realized what she’d been doing, shook her head and went back to boredly eying her surroundings… for about three minutes. Then her attention was  _right_ back on the piano.

Amaya couldn’t wait ‘till the stupid day was over with.

The movement of the one male in the room had all three females instantly alert, and he knew it. The smirk that stretched over his lips bloomed as the older girls went back to focusing on the surroundings while the younger stubbornly glared at the door.

The male padded over to the girl with red eyes, dark gaze taking in her slight form under the somber charcoal of her uniform. There was something about a woman in a suit meant for men, but made for female’s curves that was simply delicious.

When he was less than four feet away, he watched her frown slightly and snap her gaze up to his, her cheeks just tinting an alluring pink.

“Am I boring you?” he asked, lifting a brow and halting after a few steps. He was just out of her arm’s reach.

The tiny woman blinked at him and shook her head.

Tilting his head to the side, Mengyao smiled warmly and leaned forward. The quiet ones were so much fun.

Amaya, meanwhile, rolled her eyes hard. Lucy covered her mouth with a hand (she probably thought the blatant sexual harassment was hilarious). Suddenly, the blonde strode across the room, fingering the pistol in her hand, and peered out the window. “Get a little further from the window, please,” Amaya said for her, to the boy.

“Mm,” Lucy hummed, and repositioned herself between the window and the charge.

Mengyao nodded at the female who had spoken, easily obeying her request. They were professionals after all. But before he moved, he lifted a hand and caught hold of a hip holster.

“Come, you can guard me closer,” he grinned, tugging the shocked girl along as he returned to his seat the desk. Her slight weight hardly pulling on his arm.

Ruby, meanwhile, barely kept the mortifying squeak behind her teeth as she was manhandled to a different location.  _His hand! Hip! Help!_

Pulled across the room, the girl stumbled to a halt at the side of the carved wooden desk. Mengyao smiled as he took his seat and patted the edge of the desk.

_You have got to be kidding_.

Amaya’s eyes narrowed, but surprisingly it was Lucy that diverted his attention. “Oh! It’s a  _grand_! Mr. Li, might I play it?” she asked sweetly.

Amaya lifted her brows at Ruby and flicked her eyes, telegraphing that the girl should take the escape.

Quick as a flick, the small woman bowed and retreated back to her former position, tugging sleeves and suit back into proper alignment. The single male was left gaping at her exit as the blonde continued to talk.

“I simply haven’t had any chance to play any sort of grand since I was  _five_!” Lucy said, sweeping over to the piano and running her hands along the keys lovingly. “You never know how lovely each different piano will sound. I simply  _must_! It’ll while away the time, too! Whaddya say, let me play it?” She beamed at him, sweet doll-like features pulled into a hopeful expression.

Leaning on one elbow, chin in hand, Mengyao laughed. Waving at the chattering woman, he nodded, bemused. “Yes, yes. I have no doubt you can play an instrument as well as you can play a situation.” He turned to look at Ruby who was edging around the side of pillar. “I  _will_ get you to talk,” he told her, smiling wide.

The blonde tilted her head. “Thank you!” she chirped, though as to which comment, it was hard to tell. She sat on the stool, pushed up her sleeves and began to play a sweet melody.

Amaya let the ghost of a smile cross her lips before banishing it. She did love to hear Lucy playing any sort of instrument.

On the far side of a pillar, Ruby was giving herself a lecture. _I’m hired to be a guard, not a date! Even though_ … she peered around her cover and noted the way Mengyao’s lips curled faintly as he went back to his paperwork. Even his hands were sexy.

She shook her head at herself. Anyway, he wouldn’t respect anyone who couldn’t do her job. Blinking, Ruby stared out the window. Wait, was she looking to impress him now? This job just kept getting better, she groaned.

The soft sound of the piano-version of Moonlight Sonata filled the room, pure magic at Lucy’s fingertips, and if they weren’t on a job, Amaya would stomp over there, join her, then fuck her senseless. Damn. The blonde was even humming softly along to the music.

And then there was movement outside the window. “Dollie!”

The sound of the piano cut off with the sound of gunfire, even as the blonde rolled off. She barely avoided being shot in the neck. “Cutie pie, cover the Principal,” she ordered, voice sugary, and rolled behind the piano as Amaya jerked open the door to use as cover.

Dashing in a half crouch around the pillar, the woman muttered a long string of curses until she knelt next to Mengyao. She gave him a glare as he looked at her, but he only smiled and pulled out twin pistols from the holsters he had at his back.

“Now will you talk to me?” he asked eyes sparkling.

She narrowed her own. “Stay down,” she snapped, and turned her focus outwards ignoring the amused chuckle.

The blonde darted, crouched, along the floor, and dropped to the side of the window, peeking out it. “Huh. Amateurs.”

The windows on the other side shattered in a slide of shards and Ruby spun around just in time to see small black death sail through.

“Grenade!” She grabbed Mengyao by the shoulders and hit the floor behind the desk, praying the thing was solid.

Lucy yelped and threw her weight back, even as the world exploded. Amaya yelled as she dove to safety, and when the explosion cleared, she was on her feet again, cursing as she took off to eliminate the opposition.

And Dollie had been thrown back, behind the piano, and blinked dazedly. There were spots in her vision. Black spots. She pushed herself up, watching as Amaya left, and then looked down at herself. There was a warmth on her. A red warmth. She pressed her hand to her side, and it came away red. “Oh, bummer.”

She missed Amaya’s return.


	21. Native Tongues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Respect the limits.  
> Or, at the very least, be mindful of them.

White lights. White ceiling. Red walls. Ngai Mun sat in a chair and tried not to whimper. The kind grandmother at her back was being nice and careful as much as possible, but fuck, did every fucking splinter need to be taken out with a hot poker?

So she should have seen this coming. Hiding behind a wooden desk during an explosion. However, she did her job. Her charge was unharmed. In fact, the stubborn ass had gotten up, taken one look at her, and then stood guard over  _her_  useless ass.

It was embarrassing to say the least.

Her breath hissed out again, half in vexation, half in pain as the woman took another splinter out from below her shoulder-blade.

That’s wasn’t even all of her issues at the moment.

“So, can I interest you in a cup of tea?”

The jackass was sitting across from her and making small talk.

xXx

Of course, at least she didn’t have it as bad as Dollie. Amaya was the only one out of the body guards that had come out unscathed, and she tried to follow them into the operation room, but was ordered to go back and wait. Wait while a bunch of Triad-bought hospital staff pulled the shrapnel out of her Lucy’s stomach.

“ _Mendokuse_ ,” she growled, stalking into the other room and plopping down in a seat. She scowled, and then started up a diatribe.  In Japanese under her breath.

Down the hall, a certain red-eyed Chinese woman had hit her limit.

“ _Get out!_ ”

Mengyao blinked at the little hell cat who had surged up from the chair, knocking back elderly doctor and splinters alike.

“You’re being nothing but an absolute dick! No, I am not interested in spending my time with you. I don’t want tea. I don’t want dinner, breakfast, or an early lunch. I have a boyfriend and a partner and I am happy. Hear me? _Happy_! I am not interested.  _No, I will not tell you my name, my number, my address, nor my measurements. I don’t CARE who you are. I don’t want to know about your family, your accomplishments, your penis size, your target practice scores, or your coin collection! I am NOT INTERESTED IN YOU_.”

The son of a Triad boss found himself back pressed up against the door, eyes wide, with a dainty red-painted nail jabbing into his chest. He wasn’t sure if Ruby had realized she’d slipped into her native Mandarin mid rant.

“Wow…”

The tiny woman scowled, intimidating even with her suit jacket and blouse gone, one arm pressed tightly to her front as thin bra straps dangled on her upper arms.

“Mr. Li…” and her voice was pure shining steel. “ _Get your fucking eyes off my chest_.”

Not feeling guilty in the least, the young man brought his eyes up as ordered.

Ruby snarled. Her arm snapped down, twisted the knob on the door and shoved him out of the room. “ _And STAY OUT_!”

Completely stunned, Mengyao had the door slammed and locked in his face.

“Wow…”

Any other time, Amaya would point and laugh. But since her lover was in surgery, she didn’t really feel the need. So she just snorted. “Brought that one on yourself, there.”

Turning his head, the man looked at the other woman. And smiled. “That was her angry. Can you imagine what she’d be like in passion?” His eyes glazed over as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “Absolutely glorious.”

He jumped as something hard and metal hit the door inches from his temple and  _vibrated_.

“And imagine where she’d throw that,” Amaya replied, getting up and retrieving her senbon. “And I don’t mean the head on your shoulders. Better back off, sweety. I’ve seen women in our profession tear men apart for  _looking_  at them wrong.” She briefly remembered an incident where Lucy had dropped a guy in a vat of acid. She still swore it had been an accident. Amaya had her doubts.

Eyeing the female mercenary, Mengyao bent his head in respect, not a hint of mockery in his action. Raising his regard back to her eyes, he smiled. “She said to get out, and to stay out. But she didn’t say I couldn’t hire her again.” Pivoting on his heel, the male waved a hand as he walked down the hallways towards the lounge. He had some strings to pull for the future.

Amaya hummed. She’d have to ask Lucy, but she’d bet money the guy wouldn’t live past twenty-five. Shaking her head, she returned to where she’d been, only to stiffen as a man somewhat smaller than her came out and strode over.

“You are Miss Dollie’s partner?” he asked tersely.

She nodded. “How is she?” she asked, suppressing emotional reactions.

“She’ll live. But she might not wake up for a few hours yet. She's lost a lot of blood.” The man pursed his lips. “We would  _like_  to keep her for observation… but in six hours, minimum, you may bring her home if that’s what you want.”

She nodded. “I will be,” she said firmly. “Can I see her?”

He ducked his head. “In a few minutes. She’s being moved to a resting room.”

“Fine.”

xXx

Sliding a slick hand down a tiny back, Simon frowned even as he gasped at the ceiling.

“Are you sure… you’re okay?” he prodded, rubbing his fingertips together and feeling the texture that wasn’t just sweat.

Tiny teeth bit down on the meat of his shoulder and he moaned softly. A hot tongue laved over the indentations and his partner growled. “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

If she said so… He brought his hands back up to her shoulders, tracing his thumbs over the tattoos. He pushed up gently, and when her face came into view, he pulled her back in, lips and teeth catching, clinging, feeling.

“Again,” she demanded and he smiled and rolled them over. Taking turns had its merits.


	22. Wasabi Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a drunken sprawl.

“You know, stars are funny.”

“Why are you still here?”

“Boredom. Shut up. I’m having a drunken rambling session; don’t interrupt me.”

“Yeah, don’t interrupt him.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“The interesting person’s.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not in front of the children.”

“ _Anyway_.” Terse, expectant pause here. “As I was saying. Stars are funny. They burn brightly in the sky, all night and all day. Millions and millions of miles away… sometimes they move…”

“That’s a satellite, I think.”

“Shut up.”

“What was I saying?”

Stifled snickering. “You were talking about the stars Arana glued to the ceiling.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Hey… Goldie Locks. Do you know what I mean? They’re  _moving_!”

Arana burst out laughing in the dark room, but kept it quiet enough that Medic didn’t come in and yell again. It was Saturday. They were drinking. Shinji had somehow managed to join in, and it was funny knowing a light-weight…

“Definitely,” the chemist deadpanned as he lay side by side with his counterpart, who was shaking his head. “Especially the ones way by the door. I swear, there’s one dancing a jig.”

“What?” Shinji sat up and squinted. “I don’t see it.”

Arana was gasping in between helpless laughter. Dari snorted and dragged the idiot back down to the floor, where they’d sprawled out so Shinji could tell them all about stars. Arana was tucked into Dari's side, burying her face in his side and laughing. Shinji was drunkenly wondering what was so funny.

“Oh look, that star’s shaped like a truck!” Dari chirped.

“Is not. It’s a daisy.”

Her laughter got even harder.

Christoph felt movement at his side, and watched amused as Svorak brought a hand up to cover his eye. “How can you tell the difference between a truck and a daisy?” the merc demanded. “You’re not even looking at the right one!”

Feeling a flood of affection for the one-eyed thug, the blond hummed. “The truck star is by the window, the daisy star is by the outlet. Funny though, I would have assumed that the wasabi star would have been the favourite.”

“Eh, I’m kinda fond of that one that looks like a naked chick,” Shinji said.

“Breathe, Arana, before you pass out,” Dari advised, grinning.

Svorak barked out a laugh. “No, the wasabi star looks more like a peanut. The favourite is definitely the star over by the corner that looks like Mona Lisa.”

Lifting his head, the blond actually look where the black guy was pointing. Hearing a snort, Christoph thunked his head back onto the carpet. “You’re delusional,” he announced. “That’s Shiva. Clearly East Indian, not European trash.”

“Oy, don’t knock us European people. Knock the French, not Europe in general,” Arana ordered, tone scolding.

“I am European,” the chemist retorted, “and I’ll call it as I drunkenly see fit.”

She shifted up onto her elbow and glared at him. “You’re lucky you’re drunk, otherwise I would take serious offense to that, young man!”

Stretched out on the floor, Svorak smirked. “Goldie… I think you’re drunker than you realize. Your response doesn’t make sense.”

His partner blinked, ran the dialogue through his head again and frowned. “It kind of makes sense…”

“Weak, Blondie. Weak.”

“Bite me.” A split second later, Christoph yelped.

Arana chuckled and flopped back down against Dari. She hummed thoughtfully. “You know. I actually rather fancy the Mona Lisa… Father had a copy hung up in the manor when I was growing up. Mother  _hated_  it. Said it made the place look old-fashioned.” She grinned.

Humming, Svorak pulled his lover in close and nuzzled behind the chemist’s ear. “My mother had fancy dishes. The ones with pink roses and gold edges. It was always a big deal when one broke,” he said softly.

The blond chuckled, and snuggled back. “Dad had dead things all over the house. Mostly heads. Sometimes whole corpses. They were preserved of course. But the house felt like a dead zoo most of the time.”

“I grew up with my sister,” Dari mused. “Just her and me, living it out. She would get gifts sometimes, from suitors. And she’d hang them up on the walls. I used to take sadistic delight in torching them.”

Arana snorted. “Of course you did. Somehow, I think you were the child that bullied everyone else.”

“Hey… how’d you guess?” She swatted his arm.

Shinji snorted. “Okaasan had books. Dozens and dozens of books, in different languages. She’d collect ‘em, and kept ‘em in a glass and wood bookcase. When I was really little, before I could even read kanji, I’d sneak downstairs in the early morning and stare at all the colorful pictures, and imagined I could read the different languages.” He smirked. “Those were the days.”

Arana smiled slightly. That sounded so nice.

“I lived with my uncle and aunt,” Medic said from the doorway. “Tessa loved to knit, Uncle Rick liked to carve.” He picked his way through the prone bodies to sit down next to Svorak. “Hand me some of the whiskey. It’s cold tonight.”

The bottle was passed over.

“Lucy used to play instruments,” Arana said softly, but her voice was still almost loud in the companionable silence of the room. “Any kind of instrument. From violins, to piano, to the flute. She was obsessed with them, with music. Father didn’t like that she was learning such things, because that sort of thing was what the poor and the Gypsies did…

“Once, when I was ten, and she seven, she got this beautiful Gitar from our uncle, who lived in the country. She was in love with it at first sight. For days, she would sneak down to the orchard and try to teach herself to play it. Father followed her once, and smashed it in a fury, screaming about how his daughter wouldn’t become a Player, because it was a cursed life.”

She shook her head. “I was devastated when I found out, because it was always so hard to watch little doll-like Lucy cry… I plead with mother to give me her grandfather’s violin, to give to Lucy… The way Lucy’s face lit up…” She smiled, and rested her head on Dari's shoulder. “It was wonderful, doing that for her…”

There was a few minutes of silence, then, “You played softball when you were a kid right?”

Christoph nodded as his lover’s question. “Was good too. Dropped it for college though.”

“Went through eight years of the finest medical education,” the doctor groused, “and one mistake later, here I am.”

“Hey!” Svorak twisted around and playfully punched Medic in the thigh. “We appreciate you!”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, it’s true,” Dari pointed out. “We do! You’re the most amazing doctor ever!”

Arana smirked. “Certainly a lot more useful than most people I know.” She cut a look at her partner, who didn’t notice.

Smiling, Christoph peered over Svorak’s shoulders. “If you weren’t around, we’d have to settle for Scalpel,” he told the doc who scowled.

“The kid’s good,” Medic insisted. “Hasn’t left any tools inside anyone like some idiots I’ve heard about.”

The entwined mercs at his feet shuddered. Ugghh… Not a happy thought.

Arana made a face. “Note to self; don’t let anyone but Medic near me.”

Dari laughed, and sat up slightly. “Hey, looky there. Chatterbox has passed the fuck out,” he said, eying the slumbering Jap.

A small light cylindrical object sailed through the air and tumbled into the Arab’s lap.

Dari looked down… and grinned. “Mmm. New age art, anyone?” He said, getting up and stepping over Arana, then Shinji, before crouching on the Jap’s other side.

Medic grunted and passed out more gifts. Christoph blinked at the red sharpie he held in his hand as Svorak grinned over a green one. Arana got a blue. The doctor smiled, crossed his arms behind his head and sat back to watch the creativity flow.


	23. Work, Work, Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically what the title says. Three teams, all working.

The chemist quirked a brow at his partner, silently saying, ‘ _Your turn_ ’ and turned to help Wolf lug supplies to the car.

“Look, they all had their licenses in their China. Probably went through just as much school as you did,” Svorak placated.

“So? Their methods aren’t  _my_  methods,” Medic growled. “You said you appreciated me, and now look at this! You’re leaving me behind, trusting your asses to a group of Triad herb pushers!”

“Okay, first of all. Whoa. Second, you are staying here because Arana and Dari are going on a job as well. And we all know…. er…” Svorak snapped his mouth shut and looked around for other team members before continuing. “… how well Lady keeps herself together.”

Medic’s dark brown eyes narrowed.

“Ye-es,” the merc drawled. “Christoph and I have talked about this. We have decided that we feel that we can trust you with this responsibility.” He didn’t crack a smile.

The short man huffed and looked away. “Shut up, Cyclops.”

“It’s true!” His one blue eye widened in sincerity before creasing in a smile. “Just don’t go exploring. Other than that, you really can’t fuck up. It’s just not possible.”

“Argh!”

The dark merc found himself forcibly spun on the spot and force marched to the door.

“Get him out of here. He’s turning into a sap,” Medic snapped at the amused blond, before slamming the door of the house closed.

Svorak grinned at the other two men. Wolf shook his head. “Where’s your gear?” the youth asked.

 _Oh._ “Medic? Let me back in! I need my weapons!”

xXx

“No.”

“There are no other alternatives.”

“Fuck you.”

“Really?”

“ _No_.”

Mengyao sighed. “I forgot!” He spread his hands out to his sides in apology. “It won’t be so bad. You just stand by my left side, smile, watch everyone, be polite, be willing to dance–”

“Dance?” Ruby spat. “Not part of the job description, Mr. Li.”

The door behind them creaked open and the small female whipped around, hand sliding to her thigh holster before recognizing one of the male bodyguards.

“Sir, we’re leaving in four minutes.” The grizzled guard eyed the two of them. “You don’t have time to argue.”

Ngai Mun gave him a stoney glare.

“See? Now the dress is over there in the box, it should fit,” Mengyao motioned towards a couch. “I will turn and look at the wall. I swear I won’t peek.”

Snarling, Ruby stalked over to the box, ripped off the lid, and froze. “This…” Scarlet and gold silk. Dyed to match her eyes and hair precisely.  _Motherfucker_.

“Please hurry,” the guard muttered and reached inside, yanking a squawking Mengyao along with him into the hall. The door closed with a quiet click.

_Well… huh._

xXx

“ _Would you quit singing in my ear, you bastard? I can’t even understand the words,_ ” Scorpio groused.

“ _Aww, and I thought I had a lovely singing voice, teme,_ ” Shinigami purred.

“Oh, get a room, you two,” Arana snapped over the com.  _Really_. They were acting like a couple of children. Alright, well, compared to her, they  _were_  a couple of children. But still.  _Idiots_.

“ _Target sighted_ ,” Shinigami noted. “ _Going in._ ”

Arana nodded. “Prepared to run distraction. Scorpio, you have our backs?”

A scoff. “ _Of course_.”

“ _In place. Ready for distraction_ ,” Shinigami said.

“Distraction going in.”

xXx

Cutting the engine, Christoph popped the locks and the three mercenaries poured out of the car. Gear was distributed out and radios were tucked into ears and wound around throats.

Svorak stood with a cell phone pressed to his ear, an extra radio hanging from his hand. “You don’t need a wire? Fine by me. Just get here and we’ll get the introductions done.” He snapped the phone closed and tucked the spare into a pocket. “Looks like our complimentary sniper has her own communication device.”

Rolling his eyes, his partner snorted. “We aren’t the only professionals in the field,” Christoph chided.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Wolf locked the car and tossed the keys to the blond. “This is ridiculous. We  _have_ a sniper. In fact, Ruby is in the same location anyway.”

“She was requested specifically though,” Svorak interrupted a familiar rant, draping an arm across broad shoulders, “and you have to admit, she fits in pretty well in a Triad social mixer.”

The youth subsided with a few choice grumbles.

“Chin up, boy,” Christoph said abruptly. “I believe our sniper is here.”

A small blonde woman meandered toward them from across the parking lot, a single briefcase in hand. She didn’t look to be in any particular hurry. She wore a sleek black outfit, mostly leather and form-fitting, with a black jacket over it that was left open, revealing a very low-cut shirt that hugged her breasts. She blinked at them, and gave them a bright smile as she came to a stop.

“Hello! I’m Dollie,” she said. “‘Cause of my face. Nice to meet you!” She ducked into an awkward curtsey, long lashes fluttering.

The two older men raised eyebrows in identical expressions of pain. “You were saying,” the dark one muttered, then expelled a gust of air as the pale one elbowed him in the ribs before stepping forwards.

“Hello Dollie, my name’s Baba,” Christoph introduced himself. “Tiger, and Wolf.”

Svorak lifted a hand and waved as Wolf nodded.

“Delightful~” she said cheerfully. “Anyway, now that the introductions are done, who is our designated leader?”

Wolf pointed at Svorak, Svorak pointed at Christoph, Christoph lifted a hand.

“Okie dokie!” She gave Christoph a smile. “Where you want me, Baba?”

“South East of the building, there will be a hotel, Oleander. Room 417 has been booked by a representative of the Triads that is currently out-of-town.” The blond handed her a card key. “The kitchen window or the balcony, whichever suits your tastes. It will give you a clear view of the buffet and the open balcony areas.”

“Wolf and I will take care of the body guards, flushing the target out towards you,” Svorak picked up the line of instructions. “Baba will be acting as coordinator and backup in case the target takes a different route.”

“Reconvene at the Imperial Hotel on South Eddings, room 212,” the chemist finished. “Tiger will adjust your wire for our channel. Questions?”

She glanced off in the direction of where she’d be going, then shrugged and shook her head. “Nope!” She tugged a black box out of the pocket on her hip and handed it over to the dark man. It was her wire channeler. “Here.”

Large hands encased in matte black gloves thumbed a few buttons and then handed the box back. “Cheers, Dollie,” Tiger told her.

Wolf checked the line of his suit jacket one more time and then ran an assessing eye over his mentor’s. Wasn’t all that often they got to dress up in expensive upper-class wear. “We ready?”

“Yup, or I will be in ten minutes,” Dollie said cheerfully. “I’ll let you know when I’m in place!” That said, she turned away, heading off toward her location. One hand was sliding her earpiece in. The other still clutched the small black briefcase.

“Back in the car,” Christoph ordered, and the males, two in silk charcoal suits and one in civilian clothing, slipped into the vehicle.

Five minutes later, the car idled in the underground parking lot as the suits exited the vehicle. Christoph saluted them in farewell and drove back out.

“ _Parking lot, clear. Tiger and Wolf, going in_.”

xXx

“ _You know, I’m beginning to think there’s something seriously wrong with your girl, Scorpio_ ,” a voice drawled. “ _… she just got shot. Again. Clean though._ ”

“ _The shooter_?”

“ _Dead_.”

“ _Good boy. Gotta go get my girl._ ”

“ _Yeah, target’s dead too, by the way_.”

“ _I saw. Nice shooting._ ”

Arana grimaced, eying Shinigami where he crouched twenty feet away, checking the target for a pulse. She was pressing a hand to her shoulder, where she’d been shot, and listening to the two bicker like five-year olds. And why was Shinigami eying that barrel?

Dari trotted into view and crouched beside her. “No fatality?”

“Not tonight,” she muttered.

He nodded. “I’m going to go talk to Shinigami. Can you walk?”

“Yeah.” She got up while Dari went over to speak with the Jap… and stared in surprise as the Jap shot one of the wires holding the bucket. And tipped it.

xXx

“Mr. Li.”

Stilling his movements, the young man looked down at the woman at his side. “Yes?”

“Get your hand off my ass.”

“Whoops! Yes, dear.”

The feeling of a small hand tracing up his arm had his lips twitching up into a smirk before the edge of a blade was felt along his collar. “Ruby?”

“I am not your ‘dear’,” she told him, tone just above freezing temperatures.

“Of course.”

xXx

“Status Wolf.”

“ _Main hall, three guards down. Target en route as planned_.”

“Roger. Tiger.”

“ _South East entrance. I see them… Holding position_ …”

“Roger. Dollie?”

“ _Designated position. Waiting to spot target._ ”

“Roger. Tiger, waiting on you.”

“ _Roger_.”

There was a small commotion as the various bodyguards were dragged off to the tables, supposedly passed out from alcohol. For the most part, the crowd maintained its aplomb.

“ _South East entrance, last two guards are down. Dollie, target is going your way_.”

“ _Roger. Ahh, there he is. Waiting on a clear shot._ ” There was a brief pause. “ _He’s down. Not getting back up,_ ” she announced.

“Roger. Perfect. Reconvene in thirty. Well done, team.”

Christoph slumped back in the car and smiled. Flawless.

xXx

“Keep the dress.”

Red eyes narrowed. “You docked my pay?”

“It’s a gift, Ruby.”

“No thanks.”

Mengyao laughed. “I won’t be using it! And do you want me to keep something that you’ve worn?”

Lips lifting in a sneer, the tiny woman looked up from carefully folding the silk into its original box. “That’s disgusting.”

“So take it. Keep it, burn it, donate it. I don’t care,” the aggravating man told her. “Just don’t leave it here for us disgusting males to squabble over.”

Ngai Mun fit the finely painted lacquered lid back down on the wooden box and turned on him, but in the end, the parcel was wrapped and in her arms when she left for home base.


	24. Ink, Dresses, and Plots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does everyone do after they get paid? Indulge.

Arana looked up as the door opened, and a familiar blond poked his head inside. “Hi,” she greeted. “Before you get worried, it’s just a graze. I didn’t even die.”

“From anyone else, that–” Dari stopped, scowling as the blond looked at him and blinked. “What? Haven’t you ever seen a purple people eater before?”

Arana stifled laughter.

“Um…” Christoph said with great articulation.

Svorak peered in around his lover’s shoulder. “Don’t you need a horn and wings or something?”

“You’re a cannibal?” Wolf could be heard asking from behind the two mercs.

“Actually, the line is ‘one eyed, one horned’, so maybe  _you_  should be purple,” Dari retorted.

The one-eyed merc looked down at the skin on his hand. “I don’t think the dye will show up as well,” he mused, then he smirked. “However, I do have a rather magnificent–”

Pale hands stifled the next few words before they emerged from his mouth. “And that’s enough out of you,” Christoph muttered, finally finding words for the situation.

Dari smirked. “Just wait. You drew on his face too. I wonder what he’ll do?” He snickered.

Arana rolled her eyes, and translated. “Shinigami gets even, apparently. We were in a dye factory on our job. He took advantage of the opportunity.”

“Where’s Medic?” the chemist asked looking about the room.

“Kitchen probably,” his lover guessed. “Hm, Wolf’s gone already. Oh yeah! I forgot.” He pushed Christoph in and closed the door behind them. “We saw Ruby in a dress!”

Arana perked. “Oh? She must have looked lovely!” she said wistfully (earning an odd look from Dari).

Grinning, Svorak nodded. “The girl was absolutely gorgeous. Red silk, the same exact shade of her hair. Gold trimmings too.” The man snorted. “Somehow, someone got her into heels.”

“Wish I coulda seen it,” Arana murmured. “Instead, I was getting shot at.” She pouted.

Dari coughed. “Least you got to laugh at my sorry ass, right?” he offered, not really wanting her to be depressed.

Too late. Arana heaved a sigh and hopped up finally. “I’m gonna hit the shower, I think. I’ll see you guys in a little while.”

The men watched as she slipped into the washroom and closed the door.

Christoph tilted his head in thought. His dark lover hummed. They both shared a look. Then they both looked at Dari.

“So, we have money,” the blond offered.

“And the Triad’s giving us all suits,” Svorak added.

“Want to take her out to the opera?” the chemist finished.

Dari blinked at them. “The  _opera_?” he echoed. And then his brain appeared to actually catch up with the present, and he smirk-smiled. “I think that’s a great idea. And you know, I know this nice little shop that sells her favorite kind of dress.”

“Do we gift her one or take her shopping for it though?” the dark merc asked, very much out of his depth.

“Mm, we surprise her with the tickets, then take her shopping,” Dari said, getting to his feet. “‘Cause frankly, I don’t know her favorite colors. She keeps changing them.”

“May as well bring the kids,” Christoph said. “Proper culture exposure. Besides, Wolf has the suit, and even if Ruby doesn’t have the dress anymore, we can afford to get her one.”

“Holy fuck,” Svorak swore amazed, eye wide. “Are we going out as a family?”

“Family?” Medic charged in through the door. “Someone’s pregnant?”

Dari nearly fell over in shock at the thought.  _Pregnant_?! They could barely handle  _each other_! “Are you mad?” he hissed, but was ignored.

“Uh… no.” The merc looked the doctor up and down. “Wanna go to the opera house with me? I gotta get tickets.”

The short medic blinked. “Opera?”

The Arab rubbed a hand over his face. “And I… have to get this fricking dye out…” He paused. Smirked. “So, you go get the tickets… and I’ll get clean. Ta!” And before anyone could protest, he was in the bathroom and locking it behind him.

“Don’t touch the supplies in there!” Medic yelled after him. “They need to stay sanitary!”

A beat passed, and then, “ _Nuh-uh, not while you’re purple. I feel like I’m looking at Barney._ ”

“You know… Maybe we should wait until Shinigami is done with the dye before going out in public,” Svorak said, looking down at the smears of faded ink on the bedspreads.

Christoph shrugged. “It’ll be at least a week until we go anyway. Ticket availability and shopping for two women being involved. We also need to get Medic his suit.”

“Won’t take me a week to get a suit,” the man huffed at the chemist.

“True,” the darker merc agreed, “but you aren’t getting a suit off the rack. The Triad is getting you fitted for one.”

“What?”

“A flawless job, a fat paycheck, and apparently Ruby’s acidic charms regarding a certain Triad’s heir,” Christoph explained. “They offered to dress everyone in our team, free of charge.”

“Impressive,” Medic admitted.

There was a yelp from the bathroom, a thud and then an angry woman stalking out, covered in just a towel. She shoved through the men, expression black. “Not a word. Not one.” And she slammed the door out of the room shut. The bathroom door shut and locked, a chuckling echoing from inside.

“What just happened?” Svorak asked.

Medic only shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”

xXx

“You got the tickets?”

Svorak nodded. “You cleared things up with Shinigami?”

Dari nodded, relieved that he had managed to get most of the purple out. “Yeah, he said he’s not interested in Kitty’s wrath for ruining her evening, so he’ll wait out any further possible vengeance until afterwards.” He snorted. “Who wants to bet he won’t touch  _her_?”

“No takers,” the merc grinned. “Good. Here are your tickets and here’s some money.” A thick wad of worn Benjamins landed in Dari's hands. “If you need more, call me.”

“Good luck,” Christoph said smiling and pulled his partner away into the kitchen. Dari was left alone in the hall.

Dari blinked, then shook his head. “Alright. Here goes…” He turned in the direction he’d last seen Arana. “Heeeerrreee Kitty, Kitty, Kitty,” he called.

Her reaction was a dead give away. “I will  _gut_  you!”

“There you are.” He smirked and opened the door to the bathroom, peeking in. She was brushing her teeth. He allowed himself a moment to eye her, gaze sweeping down her body. “Man, those ancient Englishmen really knew how to make their ladies.”

Two dark brows lifted in the mirror as she met his gaze through it. “You get worse by the day, love,” she retorted. “Whaddya want? I have plans.”

He pouted. “What sort of plans?” he asked, eying her butt.

“Face, up here.” She then bent over and rinsed out her mouth. Only after she placed the clean toothbrush aside did she finally turn to face him. “I’m going to get a few things from the store. Was thinking about snatching Ruby and dragging her along. Haven’t had a girl’s day in a while…” She shook her head. “Well, if she’s interested.”

“You just wanna mother her,” Dari accused, and grinned at her sheepish look. “But anyway, how ‘bout you turn it into a bit of a shopping  _day_ , eh? We’ll have to prepare, you know.”

She blinked, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Prepare for  _what?_ ” she asked.

He hemmed and hawed for a moment, and when it looked like she was about to find the closest projectile, he lifted his hand and spread the tickets. “A gift, from your children.”

Brown eyes lowered to the tickets and just stared for a moment at them. “What…?”

“Opera, Kitty. Opera. Pay attention.”

She stepped over and took them from him, staring at them. He shifted nervously, unable to tell how she was going to react (the woman was impossible to predict, and he suspected bipolar). Then she looked at him, and he winced. “Don’t–don’t do that! Stop crying,” he complained.

She stepped up to him, and dragged him down into a kiss, interspersed with whispered  _“Thank you”_ s.


	25. Fashion Critique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't ever try to rationalize women's fashion.

Dari found the others later, in the kitchen. “So. I showed her.”

Judging from the amused looks on the others’ faces, Kitty had left evidence of her approval. Svorak smirked and tapped a finger against his neck. In a few places.

Christoph in the meanwhile blew out a breath and grinned. “Good,” was all he said.

“As if it was a question,” Medic drawled from his spot at the table, nursing a beer.

Leaning against the counter, in the corner by the sink, Ruby tilted her head. “Showed her what?” she asked. Beside her, Wolf suddenly grinned wide.

“Oh… The tickets,” Dari said, eying her. He wasn’t about to warn the girl who Arana would be showing up shortly to kidnap her.

“Tickets?” she echoed, then noted the various expressions of suppressed smugness and the way her partner was carefully not looking at her. “Simon?”

The young American froze. Ngai Mun could do a lot of impressions with that voice… that one was like a sword being dragged from its sheathe. He turned to look at her, hands already coming up in placation. “It’s the mentors’ idea. A night out all dressed up,” he watched her eyes. “Opera thing.”

“Aah.” Red eyes blinked in thought, something almost soft flitting across her features. “I don’t have… “ she began, paused, and then her expression hardened. “I’ll need to get a dress.”

“Perfect!” Arana chirped from the door, and marched over. “So do I. You should come shopping with me!” She grinned, then paused. “No boys allowed, of course… And if they stalk us, they won’t be boys.”

“Ywoech,” said the one-eyed merc as his partner gave him an amused look. “Hey, I wasn’t going to,” he protested. He didn’t deserve that look!

Medic just took another swig.

“You’re taking me… shopping?” Ruby was frowning. The idea did make sense. She had no clue where to get a dress from. There were stores, sure. But so many of them. Mengyao sauntered into her thoughts and she ran the image through with a rebar. Arana it was then. “Sure.”

Arana smiled brilliantly. “Delightful~” she sang happily, and promptly dragged Ruby off.

Dari blinked after her. “I think the Opera was a good idea. I didn’t know she could do musical living,” he said blankly.

“Musical living?” the tall blond asked as he unfolded himself from the kitchen chair, the fridge being his goal.

Meanwhile, Svorak was sitting with a bemused look on his face. “Is there a TV commercial or something with that ‘Delightful’? That’s the second time I’ve heard that. I think.”

Dari gave him a weird look. “Eh? I think it’s an English thing. Arana’s said it a few times that I know of. Why? Where’d you hear it the first time?”

“Not from Lady,” Wolf spoke up from the back, “but sometime in the past two weeks?”

Christoph’s head emerged from the fridge, the inner light highlighting his hair and face. “Light voice, ridiculous name?”

Bursting out into laughter, Svorak nodded. “And a complete disregard for practical clothing,” he agreed.

Simon looked down at his worn grey jeans, brown socks, black hoodie, and shrugged. “Maybe she’s comfortable in that get up?”

Dari blinked and gave them all a weird look. “Okay… I’m missing something here. What are you guys talking about?” he asked, bewildered.

Swinging close the insulated door, the blond settled back into his chair, handing Medic a new bottle as he opened one for himself. “A sweet blonde sniper we had for the Triad hit,” he explained. “She… was singular.”

“And busty, and was showing it off,” the dark partner added. “To whom, I have no idea.”

“It was wasted,” the American agreed with a wry twist of the lips, “on us anyway.”

The one blond in the room sighed. “The show might not have been meant as a show for us,” he pointed out.

“Still,” Svorak shook his head. “A sniper dressed all in black, but with that huge neckline and bright blonde hair. At night. Bit flashy.”

“She did her job,” Wolf countered, thinking of Ruby in a similar outfit and nearly swayed on the spot. “And being the sniper, who would see her or her clothing anyway?”

His blue-eyed mentor twisted around in the chair to give the young man a knowing look. “You’re thinking of our own sniper lying down in some hotel room nude aren’t you?”

The flush that crawled up Simon’s neck had Svorak laughing.

“Bah, she needs to eat more,” Medic commented.

Christoph reached over and lightly punched him in the shoulder. “It’s her genes, man. Let it go.”

Dari rolled his eyes and went to the fridge for a beer. “Eh, sweet blonde? How does anyone end up sweet in this field?” he asked, shaking his head.

“We could ask Shinigami,” Svorak deadpanned. “He seems to be high on pixie sticks most of the time.”

“Yeah, but he’s a jackass. He isn’t ‘sweet’,” the Arab pointed out, nudging the fridge shut with his hip. “And he’s… well, Shinigami. He’s kinda socially stupid.”

His observation was met with various sounds of amusement, but no one rose to defend the absent assassin. The threat of a dye job still hung over half the group after all.


	26. Girl’s Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When out and about in town, it's inevitable that you run into certain people.

Bright chrome rungs, static fluorescent lights, pale painted walls, white tiles, red carpet, marble, wood, laminate, and hundreds and hundreds of yards of manipulated fabric: soft, stiff, flowing, supported, beaded, laced, stitched, painted…

Ruby was getting a headache.

There was no denying that Arana knew what she wanted and where to find it, but the woman wanted options, so it wasn’t a simple hunt and pounce. It was hunt, pounce, turn over, pry, and walk away to repeat with another saleswoman, at another store, with another change room. They had been doing this for  _hours_.

That was it. There were other priorities.

“We’re eating,” the tiny woman told her charge, marching up and placing a small hand on Arana’s wrist where it was tilting back another dress to consider.

Arana blinked at her. “Oh. I forgot. Sorry. Sure, let’s go get something to eat. Can we do it outside? I need a smoke anyway,” she said, a bit rambly for Arana.

“Yes,” Ruby all but pounced. “There’s a diner with a patio, half a block away.”

Arana smiled and patted her shoulder. “You should have said something sooner, dear,” she pointed out. “Anyway, we’re almost done, so we can finish up pretty quickly after we’ve eaten.” She turned toward the door, humming to herself briefly. “What time is it?”

“Four.” That may have come out rather sullen, but being called ‘dear’ dredged up an unpleasant memory. Fucking Triad.

The immortal glanced back at her, brows lifting at the tone. “Right. Well. Food. My treat,” she said, picking up her pace once they hit the streets. “You really  _should_  have said something sooner. I forget when I’m hungry sometimes.”

Shaking her head, Ruby moderated her inflections. “I’ve heard the stories,” she said, injecting some humour into her words. “And… all this has been… much,” the young woman admitted, blinking in the sunlight and slipping shades over her eyes.

“Mm,” was the noncommittal reply, as Arana slowed. She eyed the sign beside the cafe, then charged right inside and got in line, leaving Ruby to follow. “What did you want?”

Drifting in to stand beside the other woman, Ngai Mun scanned the menu on the board above the counter. “Roast beef sandwich, and soup. Oolong tea,” she added, spotting a blue haired girl at the cashier.

Arana’s gaze darted over the menu, then to the girl beside her, and she quirked a brow. She glanced back toward the front just as the cashier noticed them and brightened with recognition.  _Aaahh, they know each other._  “Alright,” she agreed, as the person in front of them moved on, and they stepped up to the counter. Arana gave the woman a smile. “Hello.”

“Good afternoon,” the clerk greeted her. “What can I get you two?” She nodded to the redhead. “Yo.”

Ruby flashed her a tight smile.

Arana nodded to Ruby. “She wants roast beef and soup, and Oolong tea,” she said, smiling wryly. “I’d like a salad and regular iced tea, no sugar.” She tugged a wallet out of her back pocket and glanced at Ruby. “That all?”

The young sniper nodded, then let loose a short tangle of melodic syllables which made the woman on the other side of the counter grimace even as she rang up the change for Arana’s fifty. The clerk answered in kind and Ruby chuckled and shook her head.

“Sorry about that,” Sydney said to Arana, name plates were helpful things. “Ruby and I like to catch up on family gossip.”

Ruby cut her a sharp look, then shrugged.

“Please take a seat,” the woman continued, ignoring the redhead. “I’ll bring your food over as soon as it’s ready.”

The brunette nodded, brows lifting slightly. “Hm. Yes, of course, thank you.” She turned away. She hadn’t noticed at first, but there was a veritable bubble of protection around the girl. How interesting. Arana wondered if she knew it.

She stepped out onto the patio, tugged a seat out and sat, smiling at Ruby. “So! You two are friends?” she asked, feigning idle curiosity.

The tiny Asian nodded. “Family ties,” she said cautiously, obviously sifting through her thoughts for the correct phrases. “Obligations and honour.”

“Oh, I see,” Arana murmured, tugging out a pack of cigarettes. She smiled as she lit a stick, inhaled it and then released. “Oh, that’s better… shopping always stresses me out.” She grimaced.

Tilting her head, Ruby gave her a questioning look. “You seemed to enjoy it.”

Arana smiled wistfully. “Oh, I do… I used to shop all the time… well, when I was a child.” She shook her head. “You don’t seem to like it at all,” she added, a bit put out by the thought. She paused, gaze flicking over the immediate area. They were being watched, but… she couldn’t tell from where.

The other woman in contrast was completely at ease and shrugged lightly. “I order my clothing in from a military catalogue,” the sniper said without a thread of wistfulness, “and if I need civilian clothes, I just go in and grab what I need.”

“Boring,” Arana yawned. She shook her head. “Ah, but if that’s what suits you…” Where was it…? Somewhere… Arana turned her head slightly, glancing toward the door as if searching for a waitress bringing their food. She made a comment about just that, as her gaze darted to the side and–ha! There. Brat couldn’t hide from  _her_!

“Some people have different priorities,” Ruby said easily, then nodded to Syd who was threading her way through the tables towards them. The redhead flicked a few fingers beside her thigh and the blue-haired woman lifted one shoulder in a shrug. No time for a chat today, and her charge wasn’t cleared for disclosure anyway.

Arana smiled at Sydney. “Who’s the boy in the corner?” she asked (and in the corner, there was the distinct sound of someone choking on their tea).

Warm brown eyes blinked as the woman turned to look in the direction of Arana’s finger. “Dunno, is he cute?”

Meanwhile, Ruby was putting a few facts together about what she knew about Syd’s stalker-turned-lover and bit down on a hiss. A few things about Arana abruptly fell into place too.

Arana didn’t even bother hiding her glance this time, and smirked at the brat turning beet red. “Yes, I suppose, in a tomato-esque way. I don’t think it’s healthy to be that red…”

She watched him drop his head onto the table, and chuckled.

Sighing, the blue-haired Syd shook her head and set out the plates and food. “If he’s bothering you, I can ask him to leave,” she offered. “We know about him, he won’t raise a fuss.”

Arana’s manner softened. “No, no, he isn’t bothering me at all. I was just fascinated. He really is a peculiarity.” She shook her head, then lifted a brow. “So he’s a good boy?”

A dark slim brow arched up. “Not really,” the woman answered blithely. “He’s been stalking me for months.”

Across from her, the sniper choked down a snicker and instead grabbed her sandwich and bit down.

Arana snorted. “Stalking you?” she echoed, baffled-amused.

“Yeah.” Sydney shrugged. “But as I said, he’ll go away if I ask him to.”

“Good,” Arana said with a nod. “Well, it was nice meeting you, kiddo. Expect a tip, mm?” She winked. “And I hear that garlic works to ward off stalkers. Or was that vampires…? I always confuse the two.” She waved a dismissive hand.

Ruby looked up from her late lunch and shook her head. “Pepper-spray,” she intoned wisely. Then paused. “Better yet,  _Gary_.”

Syd reached over and poked the smaller woman in the shoulder. “He’s not that bad!” she said laughing, though whether she was referring to the stalker or ‘Gary’ it wasn’t clear. “Anyway, thank you for the advice.” She nodded to Arana. “If you need anything, just let me know. Enjoy!” And with that, she whisked back to the counter, detouring a bit to throw a balled up napkin at the boy in the corner. It bounced off the back of his spiky head.

He looked up from apparently trying to sink into the table, face completely red, and then scurried to his feet and followed her inside. Arana chuckled. “Ah, young love,” she said wistfully.

“Ah,  _food_ ,” the sniper reminded her. “Eat. Medic’s orders.”

Arana blinked, and frowned at her. “You’ve been talking to Medic about my eating habits?”

“Eating habits?” The tiny woman gave her a skeptical look. “You don’t  _have_ habits. It’s obvious you only eat if someone else cooks for you. The doctor isn’t blind nor is he stupid. You don’t hide it.” She shrugged. “Besides, the food here is  _good_.”

Arana frowned at her again, but dug into her salad.


	27. Talking Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know the newbies and then some more...

“Sydney- _chan_ , who are they?” Kai asked, following his girlfriend into the cafe proper.

“They?” she questioned back, heading for the storage closet in the back. Various staff members rolled their eyes at the goth boy who followed in her wake.

He barely noticed the looks. “Yes,  _they_ , as in the witch and the redhead out there!  _Witch_ , Sydney- _chan_!” he hissed, low enough that no one but herself heard it. “Only someone extremely powerful could get through my misdirection spells–don’t give me that look, I’m  _worried_!”

Standing with a hip cocked and arms crossed, the blue-haired female rolled her eyes at him. “‘ _Only someone extremely powerful’_ ,” she repeated back to him. “My! You are full of yourself aren’t you? Yes, I realize that she saw you. That much is obvious. But she is also in the company of my cousin, who I trust implicitly. If that witch was dangerous, Ruby wouldn’t have brought her here.”

Seeing the way Kai’s fists twitched, Syd sighed and walked forward to hug him. “I’m fine! Have some faith in the goodwill of others will you? You’re a nice guy and you’re a witch.”

“I’m a black witch. I play with souls,” he deadpanned. “And I’m not nice to everyone.” But still, he relaxed, starting to pout as he hugged her back. “And I thought you liked that I was full of myself?”

The woman in his arms hummed and snickered. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

A sharp bang of a palm on the wall startled them both. “Sydney!”

He scowled. “Your friends annoy me,” he grumbled uncharitably, and gave her a quick kiss before stepping back. “I’ll talk to you more after work?”

“Of course,” Syd replied with a smile as she brushed by him. “I’m coming. I’m coming! Yeesh, Lyds!”

The manager snorted and turned to leave the way back to the front. “He’s cute, Syd, but your ass is mine right now.”

Syd crooked a brow at Lydia’s back. “Stressed much?”

“You could say that.”

They emerged out of the kitchen. “Oh holy crow!” the blue-haired woman hissed to her manager. “Where did they all come from?”

Lydia shoved her at the till. “Nearby teacher conference from the looks of it.”

“Eep!”

And Kai returned to his table, eying the witch as she finished her salad and sat back with a cigarette, chatting at her companion. Who was she? Where did she come from? How did she learn? The questions plagued him, driving him nuts with the need to know. Should he get up and ask her? But what if she tried to do something nasty? The dark aura was plenty good enough to indicate her status as a black witch as well.

The woman burst into a short bark of laughter at something her friend murmured. Then she twisted in her seat to look right at him. “Well? Grab your drink and come sit, boyo.”

The look that the tiny Asian shot him wasn’t completely trusting. Sydney may trust this ‘Ruby’ but apparently the woman wasn’t so sure about his credentials. Not that he blamed her.

He scooped up his drink and approached slowly, watching them both. The brunette tugged a few things aside and made a place for him to sit, smiling in a vaguely mysterious-knowing way. “Please, sit. I’m Arana Bella.”

He ducked into a quick bow before sitting. “Kai Watanari,” he offered slowly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The woman nudged her companion not-so-subtly under the table.

The sniper shot a flat look at Arana then turned. “Ruby,” she said nodding to him, then settled back into her meal, leaving the two witches to hash things out.

Kai shifted uncomfortably. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“So, Kai. Or would you prefer Watanari?” Arana asked, and lifted her cigarette to her lips.

He bit back a wince. He very much Did Not Like smoking. “Um, no… Kai’s fine,” he said. “America.”

She smiled. “Alright,” she agreed, exhaling smoke, thankfully away from her companions. At least she wasn’t going to be rude about it. “Kai, then. You seem to be pretty strong.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “And confident. How’d you learn?”

He hemmed and hawed for a moment, positive his mother would butcher him for saying much. “Um… books,” he finally settled on. “You?”

“The same. I taught myself.” She eyed him. “How old are you, Kai?”

Another anxious shift. “Oh. Um, twenty-two…” Though he couldn’t be much younger than she… right? Except her eyes were old, and her manner… ageless. It didn’t fit, somehow, with the body of a young woman. She was really skinny, too. Not anorexic. But like she didn’t eat nearly enough. And she had bags under her eyes, mostly hidden by a touch of make-up, but there. “Nightmares?” It just came out, a blurt that he hadn’t fully thought through.

He jumped. “ _Itai!_ ” he yelped, casting a wide-eyed look at Ruby as Arana laughed. He reached down to rub his now-sore shin.

Arana ignored the question. “Twenty two… so young. How long have you been practicing, boyo?”

Kai blinked at the nickname, then shook his head. “Um, years,” he hedged. No need to tell her how many.

She nodded. “Interesting. What do you focus on?”

“Auras,” he mumbled. Not exactly a lie. “Erm… power… stuff like that…”

“Souls, you mean,” she deadpanned, and quirked a brow at his stunned look. “I’ve met a couple, over the years. None so young or powerful as you, nor male. Soul manipulators tend to get catty.”

He blushed, embarrassed at being caught fudging the truth. “Oh… Um… do you mind if… I ask yours?”

“Polite,” she said agreeably. “By all means. Ask.”

And she closed her mouth. He cleared his throat and shifted, then clued in. “Oh… um, w-what do you focus on?” he asked. Man, not even talking to Chang-dono had been this nerve-wracking! Then again, he knew who and what Chang-dono was. This woman was a mystery.

“Blood.” The answer was prompt, flat. “Life.”

Putting down her cup of tea, Ruby watched the two of them trade words back and forth. So far Kai was doing decently, only needed one swift kick to keep him from being an idiot. Seeing as things were now out in the open between the two of them and she needed more tea…

“Excuse me,” she said, standing and collecting a few empty plates. “I’m going for more tea. Eat that,” she commanded the older woman before she left. The salad had barely been touched.

Arana stuck her tongue out after the departed girl, prompting a smile from Kai. “Now that the guard dog’s gone. What did you really want?” she asked once the girl was out of earshot.

Kai’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “Who are you?”

xXx

_The next morning..._

There was a loud melody coming from something mechanically cheerful. It was loud and obnoxious and reminded the merc of a marching band.

“Blondie!” he whimpered, holding a pillow over his head. Light hurt and sound seemed determined to shred the inside of his brain. He hated the world, and it was obviously mutual. The tune paused and then started again.

A huffing laugh drifted over the bed before the mattress shifted. There was a flick and the song cut off.

“Baba here,” the blond’s smooth voice carried as the tall man pulled on a pair of shorts and padded out of the room. The door closed with a soft click that still felt like the dull crack of bone.

Curling a bit tighter around another pillow, Svorak tried to find oblivion where hangovers couldn’t follow.

Outside in the hall, Christoph smiled. “Hold on one second, Lee,” he murmured. “I need to move out of Hangover Alley.” Bedrooms on all sides of him were holding various team members in various states of pain. He and Medic were possibly the only ones that could function at the moment.

A few minutes later, the blond was sipping water down in the kitchen. “No, she isn’t available for that night,” he said firmly, then shook his head at the contact’s response.

“ _I can get her double her usual fee_ ,” Lee offered. “ _There will be two other female guards with her, the same as last month.”_

“No,” Christoph repeated. “It’s not about money, Lee. She already has a job that night.” A small fib, but dammit, the money for this particular night was out of their pockets! It was important, in a strange, intangible way.

On the line, the Triad’s man sighed. “Alright. But if she does become available. Please send her to the Opera house and dressed accordingly. We’ll keep an eye out for her, but at such a late notice–”

“Lee,” the blond cut him off with a frustrated growl. “ **No**. Even if you think you see her, she will not be available. Tell Mengyao he cannot have her for that night.”

“But–” There was a pause on the line and the chemist paused too, listening. “He said, ‘No,” Lee. Let it go,” a lower, gravelly voice sounded from a little further in the background.

“If that’s all then,” Christoph said into the phone with a satisfied smile. Lee stuttered a little, but the growl on the other side settled the matter quickly. “Good bye then,” and he snapped the cell phone shut.

Humming, the amused man refilled his glass and sipped, waiting. Three seconds later, the phone rang again, only with a different chime. “Jin! Thanks for that.”

The old guard snorted. “Sycophants.”


	28. Grand Entrances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will everyone please gather here...

Dari helped Arana out of her Camaro—he had driven—and privately thanked her obsession with standing out. The others had had to look into a better rental than the one they’d had. He smiled at her, gaze sweeping down the red silk and then meeting hers again.

The dress was dark red. It consisted of an underskirt—more of a slip, really—an over skirt, and a corset-like top. It looked wonderful on her, the soft gauzy, rosey design of the overskirt letting the slip be seen in brief flashes of black among red. The slim straps—not quite spaghetti-style, but close—were hidden from view by a translucent shawl, with long silk gloves covering her lower arms. Also red. She wore ruby studs in her ear lobes.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful?”

“Only half a dozen times,” she replied dryly, leaning on his arm. She turned to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for this.”

“You better have thanked the others,” he added. “They bought most of it all. Even suited me up.”

She chuckled. “That was why I took them out to breakfast this morning.” She glanced over at movement, and smiled. “Ruby! You look lovely.”

The sniper nodded demurely, red eyes startling with the shades of emerald and ebony on her lids. Black silk gloves ran up her arms to the elbow and she smoothed them down on the skirt of her outfit. The dark green strapless dress that she wore wrapped around her tiny body in clinging folds from her bust to her hips and from there cascaded down in loose waves. Her bright tattoos of clouds and sinuous dragons sprawled across her bare shoulders in full glory, broken only by a thin black chain and a single ebony pendant.

Beside her, Wolf stood proud and smug, linked arm in arm with his partner, lover, and charge. Dressed in the same charcoal suit from the Triad hit, there were barely any traces of colour, though at his throat was similar black chain.

The other men had also exited from the black limo they had rented for the night, the hired driver was already pulling away from the curb.

The group of them were rather intimidating when all dressed in high-end suits. Various shades of black and grey. Christoph was in a pale grey, almost white, and wore a striped tie in a familiar striking blue. Svorak had bypassed a tie completely, though a handkerchief in honey-brown was tucked into his front breast pocket. Medic was scowling as usual, tugging off his simple black tie and stuffing it into a pocket. He shot the one-eyed merc a scathing look and unbuttoned the first two ivory buttons of his silk shirt. Like Svorak, he was wearing a jet-black suit with a white shirt.

“Told you, you shouldn’t have bothered,” the smirking man told the medic.

“Shut up.”

Arana brightened and went over to first her Boys, giving them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then gave Medic, Wolf and finally Ruby hugs as well. “Look at us, all cleaned up,” she said, practically glowing with happiness.

Dari smirked. “I think the ladies have outdone us guys, though,” he said, glancing between their girls. “Does that count Baba?”

Arana gave him a scowl, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Just joking!”

The blond tilted his head and rubbed careful knuckles on his navy blue silk shirt, looking smug. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Behind him his partner snorted.

Dari chuckled and bowed mockingly, just getting swat on the shoulder by his partner. “Alright, alright!” He bowed more seriously to her, a hand held out. “Kitty, do me the honor of letting me escort you into the Opera House.”

She smiled softly and took his hand, sliding her own onto the crook of his elbow as she stepped close. “Alright, let’s go in then,” she said, beaming.

“We ought to get a picture taken,” Svorak whispered into his lover’s ear. “She looks like she could light up the whole building.”

The chemist nodded, smiling as the retinue of mercenaries followed the immortal woman and her Arab lover into the opulent theatre.

“Deja vu,” Wolf murmured to himself, feeling the thick carpet under his polished shoes and seeing the same sights as two weeks ago.

Ruby heard him and nodded, though she thought the company was much improved and said so. Her partner chuckled and kissed her on the temple.

xXx

Lucy was humming softly to herself as she wandered around. She was a plain-clothes guard, whereas Maya was blatantly a bodyguard. Mostly this had been arranged so that Lucy could look cute. She liked looking cute. Cute was fun.

Heaving a sigh, she wandered further and further away from Mr. Li and Maya on her route, gaze darting over unfamiliar faces that may or may not be potential enemies. To outsiders, she looked like a modern-dressed Miss, in a blue silk blouse and black pants, with a few pieces of jewelry scattered about.

And she was bored. She wasn’t even going to be able to see most of the show, though maybe she would be able to hear the music. Ahh, the music…

And that’s when she spied a familiar face. Two familiar faces, stepping out of the men’s bathroom as she passed along the far side of the hall. She perked and drifted over, waiting for them to spot her in the thinning crowd–and there we go. Ten feet away from the bathroom.

“Heeellloooo,” she sang softly, stopping a few yards away from them and beaming. “I remember you! From the market.”

The dark one tilted his head and nodded while the one in white nodded and spoke, “It hasn’t been long, but how have you been?”

She sighed wistfully. “Booorreeed. But mostly okay. What about you two?”

“Honestly? Pretty good,” Tiger replied. “I think my friend here is looking forward to this more than I am, but I’m willing to give the opera a try.”

Baba laughed and elbowed the other man in the side. “It’s been an interesting week and we finally got out for once.”

“En masse,” his partner added bemused.

The blonde girl perked and smiled a bit dreamily. “Ohh, you’re here with friends? Or family?” she asked curiously. “There was that other boy… Wolf, wasn’t it? Is he here too?”

Tiger looked at Baba with a grin. “If they were looking for us, they would have found us anyway. We’re not exactly subtle.”

The blond scrunched his nose, but shrugged and answered, “Wolf is here, yes. He’s with Ruby, his partner.”

She smiled. “That’s lovely. Oh… Ruby… that sounds familiar…” She hummed thoughtfully for a beat, then brightened. “Oh! She’s the one Mr. Li fancies, isn’t she?” She smiled again.

“Yes,” Baba sighed as the other merc shook his head grinning. “She’s the one. Were you on detail with her before?”

Lucy nodded. “Yes. Actually, I think I was there when they met… My partner thinks it’s funny.” She giggled, glancing back the way she’d walked, then returned her attention to them.

Which is when the two men frowned simultaneously and the taller one brought a hand up to his ear. The merc in black shook his head, scowled, and stalked towards the main hall.

“Sorry, sweetling,” Baba muttered. “We have to attend to something.” He nodded and then left, quickly catching up to his partner.

Lucy blinked after them bemusedly. “What an odd couple,” she murmured.

Then, a crackle in her ear. “ _Dollie, get over here. We have… man issues. Baka_ _ **neko**_ _-_ ”

Lucy tuned out the Japanese ranting and trotted off in search of her partner and the Principal.


	29. Personal Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Souring some relations to strengthen others. It's a balance of priorities.

“I can’t believe this,” Arana sighed, pouting faintly. The small red-haired Japanese lady was now standing between some Triad guy and Wolf, mouth pulled into a frown as the other guard—male—kept a hand on the guy’s shoulder, tense against Wolf’s fury.

The idiot brat  _had_  to go demanding that Ruby work for him. And by the connotations, Arana knew that ‘work’ was a relative term.

“You?” the Triad’s voice twisted in mockery. “You are with her? What can you possibly offer?”

Ruby’s partner snarled and stepped forward, only to be yanked back by a tiny black-gloved hand.

“I told you this already, Mr. Li: I am not interested.” The sniper’s tone was flat, implacable as she pulled her partner in close to her side.

“That can change.”

“You fucker… Stay away from her.”

“Or what? You can’t do anything to me, but if you cross me, deny me, I can make your life so very difficult,” Mengyao purred.

“Can’t do much if you’re  _dead_ ,” Wolf said with icy intent.

“Tiger, Baba. Need you here  _now_ ,” Medic was hissing into his mic. Funny how the wires were a habit so ingrained, they had become part of the night’s outfitting without a thought otherwise.

“ _Five seconds, Medic_.”

Arana sighed. “This is why children annoy me,” she muttered to her lover.

Dari patted her hand. “Best just to sit back and ignore them, Kitty.” He took a glass off a passing tray, nodding to the waiter, tasted it and passed it over.

She accepted it, her lips twisted in displeasure. “Yes, I suppose.” Sighing, she took her own sip.

Amaya frowned at the boy standing before her, but she really wanted to smack the one behind her. Men! And what was worse, the one in front of her had every right to want to tear off her employer’s head! She touched her earpiece and told Lucy to hightail it back, got an affirmative, bitched for a few seconds and then shook her head.

“Excuse me, Mr. Li, I’m going to have to ask you to step back, please. Exacerbating the situation will not help matters at all,” she said, gritted out between her teeth. She really just wanted to give the ass to the poor boy in front of her, then stand back and laugh.

Narrowing his eyes, the Triad glared at the pair, the partners, the apparent couple. Ruby was glorious as always, spine straight and chin high. He sniffed at the pretty dress that she wore, its quality nowhere near what he had given her earlier. Throw enough gifts and attention her way, and it was a simple matter of biding his time, chipping at her resistance. No, the obstacle was more the muscle-bound freak that stood in  _Mengyao’s_  place by her side.

Footsteps rounded the corner, two older males coming into view and slowing their steps as they took in the situation. Mengyao knew exactly when recognition set in. However, instead of fear and respect, he saw weary frustration and irritation. They knew who he was, and didn’t care.

 _Hmm_ … Lifting his chin, he took two steps back and settled his shoulders. The situation had begun on a faulty assumption. When he had seen Ruby in a dress, he assumed Lee had been able to twist a deal from Baba. She was here after all, cleaned up and ready to attend a public event by his side as a woman and not a guard. He had walked straight into a wall made of men before he had been able to grab her hand. Then this exchange had developed.

He had assumed, and been proven wrong. Better to gracefully retreat and instigate a confrontation on his own grounds. He could wait. He could be patient.

“You can’t give her what I can,” he reminded his rival. “You know that.” His eyes slid over to Ruby, taking in her eyes, her expression. And ghosted lower to the pendant at her collarbone. Something personal, on display. He had seen a similar carved piece at her partner’s throat. “I acknowledge that you have her now, but I doubt that you will be able to keep her.”

He snapped his gaze back up to meet her red eyes and smirked. “Have a good evening, Ruby.” That said, he spun on his heel, and walked away, guards falling into place at his back and sides.

Several yards away, the blonde Dollie approached her partner and their Principal, and a glass shattered against the floor. Dari gave Arana a startled look. “Kitty?” He followed her wide-eyed gaze, eyes sweeping over the half-turned away figure. Then she glanced in their direction after a whispered conversation with the Japanese woman—well, more toward Ruby and Wolf than them—and Dari's jaw dropped.

He had only  _ever_  seen a picture of Lucy once. It was after a shower with Arana, and the woman had been staring at the likeness painted into her locket. But Dari had memorized it, and now it stared back at them.

Surprise crossed those doll-like features, taking in Arana’s face in disbelief. She started to turn, but the woman beside her grabbed her arm. And was shook off, told to stay there. The blonde approached.

“Who are you?” she asked as she drew near.

Behind her, tilting his head, the Triad had stopped to watch, intrigued.

Arana just stared, for so long that the blonde in front of her actually started to frown. She lifted a hand and snapped her fingers in front of Arana’s face, and Dari automatically reached out, grabbing her wrist. She huffed and broke his grip, but didn’t move toward the woman again. “Did you hear me? Who are you? I should  _know_  you! But I don’t. I can’t remember where I’ve seen your face, but I know that you should be–” She stopped, had almost said  _dead_. But that was impossible.

She perked as the conclusion came. “Oh! You must have a twin, right?”

Arana swallowed. “No.”

The blonde pouted, looking completely baffled. “But I thought…”

The brunette shook her head slowly. “Now… is neither the time… nor the place… Would you like to have lunch, sometime? We can speak then.”

The blonde’s expression cleared. “Um… Sure. But how will I contact you…?”

Off to the side, Svorak had grabbed Wolf while Christoph claimed Ruby. Both pairs were talking rapidly and tersely.

“Don’t rig his car,” the black merc said flatly and Simon scowled. “No. I don’t care. No. He spouted words, made things a little tense, but he cannot force her.”

“He’s trying to hire her for social reasons,” Wolf spat. “He could have any other woman—fucking china man—but he has to chase after Ruby? Well,  _he can’t have her_.”

“Then believe that.” Svorak grabbed both Wolf’s shoulders and shook lightly. “She won’t go to him. Ruby is with you. So calm down, get yourself together, and be fucking _here_ for her. Not charging off to kill an ass who thinks too much of himself.”

The American shook his head. “I can do that. I can. But, she’ll just get hired away again.”

“Fuck that.”

“Svorak?” Wolf looked up, frown creasing his features.

“Yeah, you heard me. Blondie already said no once, he’ll do it again, and again, and again. Until that idiot learns.”

“But the pay.”  _I can’t hope. We’re mercenaries. This is our life._

“If not worth the aggravation,” his mentor growled, then turned the youth around by the shoulders and shoved him at Ruby, who was being given the same treatment. “Go give her a fucking hug and take Medic for a walk. The man looks like he’s going to light the goddamn building on fire.”

“O… okay.”

Arana drew a slow breath. “Um, I don’t have a phone…” she mumbled, embarrassed. She’d never bothered. Never tried to pretend to be a normal human being, not after everyone she knew was dead. Well, not until her Boys had come into her life.

“You have a pen?” Dari asked suddenly.

Lucy blinked, and shook her head, then paused. “One sec.” She turned on her heel and stalked over to the Japanese woman, they hissed at each other for half a beat, the woman gave her a marker and she trotted back over. “Here!”

Snorting, the Arab ripped a page out of his program, scrawling his cell number on it. “Just don’t run up my minutes with girly stuff.”

The blonde accepted the program, the marker and then looked at her. “Um, so we’ll talk later? And you’ll tell me why you look familiar…?”

Arana nodded slowly. “Yes… I will…”

Beaming brightly, the blonde spun on her heel and skipped off again.

Arana watched her go, hardly aware that one of her Boys had edged over.

Far above her, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention. When she looked up, honey-brown eyes were watching Lucy bounce away. “Our hair _is_ rather similar, isn’t it?” Christoph sighed. “And I’ve even worked with her and didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “You’ve never even seen a picture of her. Why should you apologize? There are plenty of chirpy blondes in the world,” she said, and leaned slightly back into him, smiling faintly. “I don’t blame you.”

Rumbling softly, the man wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug and sighed again, looking to the side at Dari. “Yes, but how many chirpy blonde snipers are there in this city?” He grimaced. “However, you have found her. She does recognize you somehow, someway, and will be contacting you soon. Not bad for second contact.”

She chuckled softly. “Yes, especially since she shot me twice the first time,” she replied dryly, and finally pulled away. “Excuse me. I have to use the restroom…”

“Of course,” Christoph said with a smile. Svorak walked up to him as Lady left in a rustle of silk and lace. He nodded at his partner before reaching and halting Dari with a hand on the shoulder. “Give her a few minutes, then go after her,” the blond requested softly.

Dari frowned, but stopped and shook his head. “She’s just escaping,” he muttered.

Tossing one arm around the chemist’s shoulders, the other merc shrugged as they watched her walk away. “So? We’ve already told her what happens when she runs. We’ll just find her again.”

Dari chuckled softly. “Not that kind of escaping. I don’t think we could drag her out of here if we tried. She was way too happy for this night,” he said.

Shaking his head, the tall man in white disagreed. “This is the same, just on a smaller scale. She leaves, we follow. Lady has been alone for a long long time. She doesn’t realize that there are now people to turn to when she feels unsure.”

“We’re basically her support group,” Svorak snorted amused. “How the mighty have fallen.”

The Arab smirked at the thought. “Heh, hell, I’ve even seen Ruby forcing her to eat stuff. The other day, scowling all morning. Ruby was throwing apples at her,” he said, and shook his head. “I’m gonna go make sure she’s okay.”

The two mercs nodded as the assassin walked off after Lady and then the one in black turned to the one in white. “What did you say to Ruby anyway?” Secretly, Svorak was rather proud that they had timed the ends of their separate chats so well.

“What did you say to Wolf?” the blond countered smirking down at him.

Pulling his lover over to a spot on the wall between a painting of a garden and a mirror, the blue-eyed merc hummed as he slid an arm around the taller man’s waist. “Don’t go after Mengyao. Stay with your partner. Chill. Take Medic for a walk.”

“Before the place goes up in flames?” Christoph chuckled, leaning into him.

“Uh huh.”

Honey-brown eyes closed as the chemist let his lips twist in a small grimace. “We don’t usually have this issue. Professionals, all of us.”

The other merc sighed. “Mengyao has a way of getting under everyone’s skin. Though, usually he doesn’t push.”

“No, that one likes to plot and plan and wait.”

“You think he’s going to be trouble?”

Christoph shrugged, holding up a pale hand and rocked it back and forth. “He was trouble tonight—” his partner snorted. “—and yes, he walked away. I’ll think up a few contingencies, but I doubt it’ll be necessary. Ruby can take care of herself.”

“Huh.” Svorak looked at the fancy expensive clothing walking by on soft bodies. “So what did you tell her?”

“The same thing.”


	30. Seats, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's get this show on the road!

Meanwhile, Dari slipped silently into the ladies’ restroom, glad to find that there was only one door shut and locked. He raised his hand to knock, and heard a sigh.

“Dari, you didn’t need to follow me,” she said softly, and the door opened to reveal her pale face. Luckily, she hadn’t been crying.

“I was worried,” he said, frowning slightly. “This was supposed to be a good night. It kinda got messy, but–”

“Stop,” she said with a tiny shake of her head, and sighed. “No, it is a good night. It’s good. I’m happy, Dari. I’m very very happy.”

“Then why are you hiding out in here?” he asked pointedly.

The brunette sighed and walked over to the sink, peering at her reflection. “I’m so very different, now. So much more than I was then. I… I look exactly the same, Dari, but my eyes… they say everything. And her showing up here, on this night… how can I ever expect any sort of happiness to last?”

She turned to face him as he frowned, shaking her head when he opened his mouth. It shut. “You’ll die,” she said, with quiet acceptance. “You’ll die, and so will my boys, and Ruby, and Wolf, and Medic… and so will Lucy. As she is now. Maybe she’ll be reincarnated again. Maybe I’ve been given extra punishment, to watch her live, grow and die again, over and over… I don’t know.

“But I know she’s mortal. She’s human. She’s a little girl, twisted and changed by what the world is today. And I’m… still the same.”

“How are you more and the same?” the Arab asked in complete bewilderment.

Arana chuckled. “I’m here, I’m now… and I’m then too. I shouldn’t be. No one should be.” She sighed and pursed her lips. “When I was… a young woman, my little sister got married to Charles Carpenter. You remember me telling you that?”

Dari nodded. “Yeah. You were her Maid of Honor,” he said, recalling.

“They had a baby, and it killed her. She was born sterile-”

The door suddenly opened, the noise rushing over the last few soft-spoken words, and an old woman gasped and stopped. “Young man! What  _are_  you doing in this room! Out, out! Before I call security!” she said, shooing the flabbergasted Dari out the door with both hands.

He cast Arana one last helpless glance before the door shut between them, and the old woman turned to fuss over the brunette. “Oh dear, was he bothering you! Would you like me to call security, sweetheart?” the woman asked, coming over to fret before her.

Arana sighed and caught both of her hands. She smiled at her. “No, he wasn’t bothering me, but thank you very much for your concern. I wish you peace.” She released the woman’s hands, leaving her speechless as she swept from the room.

xXx

“Look you two, I don’t know what those two said to you, but I’m fine!”

Ruby shared a glance with her partner across the thick expanse of Medic’s chest and twined her arm a little more firmly through the doctor’s.

On the other side, Wolf replied. “We were told that crowds make you claustrophobic.”

“Fucking lie.” The doctor snorted. “I don’t have a problem with crowds. No, my problem was that Triad coming up and boasting and throwing out his peacock feathers like they were made of gold.”

Simon didn’t have a response to that, though the tension fairly sang through his silence.

Instead, the three of them turned back to the main hall where the confrontation had been, with Ruby wondering if the next time she saw Mengyao, would she be able to fire a double-barreled shot-gun up his ass.

xXx

Arana approached her waiting group and smiled at them. “Sorry. Young lady in the loo,” she said.

“Young?” Dari echoed. “Arana, your age is showing again.”

“Oh… Sorry.” She accepted his arm when he offered and smiled at the others. “You should have Ruby, Wolf and Medic come. We’ll need to find our box, soon…”

Svorak smirked and jerked his chin to the side. “On their way.”

“Yes, and we should be moving,” the blond added, stepping away from the half embrace they shared. He paused though, noting the faint frown on the blue-eyed merc brow, and sighed, saying, “Get off the wall and escort me properly, you oaf.”

Arana’s mouth curved into a smile. Her Boys were so adorable.

The smile that spread across the merc in black was part pride, part appreciation, and a good part predatory. In two steps, Svorak was arm in arm with Christoph and turning to address their last-to-arrive team members. “We’re heading in. Lady, you’ve got the lead,” he said to Arana.

She positively beamed with happiness at that, and gave a curtsey. “Of course. Thank you.” She lead the way inside, only glancing once at the ticket stub Dari showed her, before she found the stairs leading to their box. There were seats set up for them, electronic fans if it got too hot… and a service boy.

The Arabian assassin whistled, impressed. “Wow. You guys really went all out, huh? Kitty, you are one lucky girl.”

She was smiling slightly. “I know,” she murmured.

The sweet moment was spoiled by the stomping behind them as Medic made his way up the stairs.

“Well, get your asses into the chairs,” he told them. “The show is going to start soon. And you!” He rounded on the boy in uniform who quailed at his hard tone. “I want everyone to have water available to them and I don’t mean a measly cup, I mean glasses and three pitchers. So get moving!” The boy stumbled back before fleeing from the balcony. “And  _walk!_ ” Medic roared after him.

Arana tapped Medic on the shoulder, and when he turned, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Sit down before you give yourself a heart attack, dear. The evening is about relaxing.”

Dari snorted. “Yeah. You look like a tomato.”

Medic sniffed. “And you look like a coffee bean.”

The Arab’s brows lifted. “That would be Cyclops, not me,” he replied mildly, and winced when Arana pinched him viciously. “Oww…”

“Sit. Both of you. Now,” she said firmly. “And  _enjoy yourselves_.”

A few seats to the side, the Boys were already seated and watching the show. The one that was being performed on their balcony to be exact. “Medic, sit down already,” Christoph said exasperated. “We’ll get our water, the show will be good, there will be a break for dinner, and everything is planned and paid for. Just allow it to proceed.”

Svorak chuckled. “And save yourself the aneurysm.”

The doctor took a breath to retort but caught the look in Arana’s eyes. “Humph,” he said instead, and sat down on the far end. Ruby and Wolf silently followed, taking the seats next to the grumbling doctor.

Arana relaxed and smiled, moving over to sit next to Christoph, with Dari beside her. Svorak was of course on the blond’s other side. “Thank you,” she murmured softly to her Boys, and gave them a tiny smile.

The blond blinked and looked down at her as his partner leaned forward to talk over a chest clad in white. “Thank us  _after_ the evening is done,” Svorak murmured, thinking of Mengyao and Lucy. “I kinda guessed at the show.”

“You’re welcome,” Christoph interjected firmly, rolling his eyes, “is what he means. It’s been good having you around. We know you don’t have to be, so we appreciate your presence.”

“Yeah, saves us from hunting you down–Ooof!”

“As I said, we appreciate you.”

Her smile widened… and the theatre darkened as the curtains parted.


	31. Family Dinner 1/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arana doesn't have skeletons in her closet, she's got friggin zombies.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” a very pale Arana said, three steps into the arranged restaurant. “I might be sick. Be right back.” She turned to bolt into the nearby bathroom.

“Dari.” That was Svorak.

Two tanned hands dropped onto her shoulders and turned her around. “You are not escaping,” Dari said, not laughing like a martyr. “And before you try, I checked. No window in either bathroom.”

She swallowed, digging her heels into the floor. “I can’t. I–I really can’t. It’s been… years. She’s a different person–”

There was a low chuckle behind her. “Arana Bella? Climbing out of windows?” A large chocolate dark hand with scarred knuckles wrapped around her shoulder and squeezed, while also propelling her forward, a little faster than she was comfortable with. “Of course she’s different. That’s why you’re having lunch with her. Well… that and you haven’t seen her for years.”

“She hasn’t seen me  **ever** ,” she retorted. “Her entire life.  _Stop pushing me or you will_ _ **regret it**_.”

Dari took over, smirking at Svorak, whom quickly backed away at the Arab’s nod. “Arana. Calm down. Breathe. Focus. You with me?”

The brunette gulped, currently focused on her feet. She drew a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled.

“I see her,” Dari said. “Good news: she won’t notice you’re late. Better news? She’s spotted you.”

“Please, God, just kill me now.”

The Arab snickered as he steered his lover to a nearby empty booth, glancing at the blonde and redhead approaching across the street. The redhead was making a face at the blonde, who was apparently slightly distracted.

“Nah, can’t have that happening,” the black merc drawled, turning back from glancing over his shoulder, the blue striped shirt that he wore settling again in straight lines. “You’ll miss your play date… Aw, don’t look at me like that.”

Dari forced the brunette into the booth, and made her scoot all the way in before sitting next to her. “I take it you made Baba stay home?” he asked, looking at Svorak.

The single blue eye rolled. “I had a feeling that Lady here was going to be skittish. Blondie would have let her bolt,” The merc gave the woman in question a pained smile, “and then we would be chasing her all over the city if not the next country.”

Arana ducked her head down, refusing to let them see the faint hint of red dusting her cheeks. Dari snorted. Then he looked up as the bell over the door dinged. The duo they were awaiting stepped in, the blonde speaking, “–thought that was the sort of thing you did during these kinds of–”

“No. Just no,” the redhead gritted out. “Where are the–oh.”

The blonde beamed, already wandering over. “Oh, bummer, blondie bear isn’t here,” she said in a musing, wistful tone.

There was a choking sound from the side as Svorak got himself under control. “–bear,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Oh, gotta tell him that one.”

Arana looked up finally, and gave them a wan smile. “Hi, kiddo. Have a seat,” she offered softly.

Lucy tilted her head, shrugged and slid into the booth. The redhead sat beside her, at the edge of the seat, as if daring someone else to even  _try_  sitting with them. “Helloooo~” the blonde sang. “How are you? You’re not as pretty today.”

Arana blinked, staring for a beat before she realized it wasn’t actually an insult, just a socially awkward comment. “Oh. I didn’t get as dressed up, no.”

Seeing as the others were seated, the one-eyed merc wandered off to a table near the entrance. The place was nice: big windows, padded seats, free bread… He nodded at the waiter who drifted by and left a small basket of sliced sourdough. Nice. Maybe he ought to take Blondie out some night soon. After the beating he was going to get while Christoph’s new nickname, he was going to need nourishment. And energy. Svorak grinned and picked up the menu. Was there steak?

The redhead already looked bored, as Lucy brightened. “Oh! This here is Pretty-”

“Ember,” the redhead corrected irritably.

“-Pretty.” Lucy giggled and ignored the glare she got for that. “Her name is Ember. Amber. That color thing.”

Arana blinked, then cracked a smile. Even through reincarnation, Lucy didn’t change. “Do you like instruments?” she asked softly, watching as both looked at her, abruptly focused.

“How do you know that?” Ember demanded, eyes narrowed as she scooted a bit closer to her lover.

Lucy batted at Ember’s shoulder and leaned across the table, meeting Arana’s gaze. She stared. And stared. And stared.

Dari's brows lifted slowly. “See something you like?”

“Yes,” Lucy said, sitting back again. “And no.” She smiled faintly. “Why are your eyes so dead?”

Arana’s jaw dropped. “What?” she asked, surprised. Dead? Her eyes? That didn’t even make sense! She was alive…

“Yes. Like all the light escapes them, and doesn’t want to go in,” Lucy said. “Your eyes are the eyes of corpses.” She tilted her head. “Why?”

The brunette swallowed and drew a quiet breath through her nose. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied.

Blonde curls shifted erratically as Lucy shook her head. “How do I know you?”

Arana swallowed. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t tell this girl she didn’t know- she couldn’t make her hurt. She couldn’t. Couldn’t. Her expression shut down, all the reasons she couldn’t do this running through her head. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be here. Everything has started over for you, it’s not fair for me to talk to you in this place.”

The biggest reason? Arana couldn’t tell Lucy that she’d killed her.

 _Uh oh_ … The black merc shook his head and eyed the waiter that was walking towards the group at the booth. Dari had conveniently left his mic on, giving Svorak a clear audio of the discussion that was steadily heading towards a cliff, if not already over.

The big man sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Arana never did do well with personal demons. Her own existence being one of them; her past, another.

He thumbed the mic. “If she wants out, I won’t stop her. But she needs this.” Svorak took another breath, but let go of the transmitter instead. Wasn’t his life, wasn’t his decision. All he had was an opinion that he had stated. Which still begged the question, should he order to go or not bother at all? Cuz there was a waitress heading his way.

“Why are you afraid?” Lucy persisted. “Are you afraid of my reaction? Or are you afraid of the pain it could bring?”

“Both,” Arana said after a pause. She looked away, sighing. “And I’m afraid to drag you into something that you don’t need to experience.”

“But I want it,” the blonde retorted, temper flaring. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I know I don’t react well with others, but you shouldn’t-”

Ember grabbed her hand, cutting her off with the sudden shift of her own focus. “Dollie…”

The blonde pouted and looked back at Arana. “Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“I could shoot you again,” Lucy offered. “Maybe you’ll get back up again. Then I could shoot you again. And again. And again. That pain is the same, isn’t it? Tell me.”

Ember and Dari stiffened at the same time as the merc at the other table swore quietly and turned. Arana met Lucy’s gaze, and her shoulders slowly drooped. “I once had a sister, a little sister, a very, very, very long time ago. She meant the world to me. She meant more to me than… than breathing, or eating, or sanity. Her name was Lucille Abigaille Watson, she loved her husband, her music, and all sorts of sweets. She was born sterile.”

Lucy blinked. Her brow furrowed. “Born sterile? Did she want a baby anyway? She could have adopted…”

“Not really. No one adopted back then. The orphans… they just wandered the street. No one cared about them. Adoption wasn’t the thing. The thing was power, and bloodlines, and purity. Adopting wasn’t part of that.” Arana sighed.

“I don’t understand,” Lucy admitted. “What does this have to do with me-”

“We called her Lucy, for short. She… you’re her spitting image, Dollie. You look  _exactly_ like her.” The brunette tugged off her locket, opening it, and handed it over.

Lucy sucked in a breath, holding the trinket gingerly with the tips of her fingers. “How… how  _old_  is this?” she whispered, awed.

Snorting, Svorak handed the menu back to the pretty redhead waitress as he listened to the line. That piece of jewelry was a relic. He remembered picking it up out of the Mexican sand and holding it his palm as a half-dead Lady nailed to a wall peered at it with dry bleary eyes. In the entire time that he had kept it in a pocket, he hadn’t peered inside. The merc had only brought it out to hang around Arana’s throat when they got her to base.

“The locket is about… two hundred and ten years old, give or take,” Arana replied softly. “And… the picture… It’s a hundred and thirty-four years next month.” She exhaled. “It was painted three and a half years before my sister died. About four before I…”

“Stopped dying,” Lucy said flatly, looking up from the locket.

“Yes.”

“How?” Blue eyes searched her face.

Arana swallowed convulsively, heart seizing, as Dari noticed Svorak tugging his earpiece out. “I was… cursed. I cut up whores and used their insides in black magic, to make Lucille have a baby. She wanted a baby so bad. When she found out she couldn’t… she was afraid that everyone would be angry with her. Everyone. She cried, and begged, and pleaded with me… so I visited the Undertaker.

“Some whispered that he did magic. Stories of necromancy to scare little children. He wasn’t a nice man, so I killed him first, and stole everything he had.” She shook her head and drew a breath, letting it out in a huff. “I ignored all the warnings of danger and the rule of three, and Karma. And I gave Lucille a baby.”


	32. Family Dinner 2/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk. And talk. And talk. Meanwhile, Svorak keeps drinking.

Half a restaurant away, Svorak was doing what any good well-trained plain-clothes bodyguard would do. Watch the premises and look… well, harmless wasn’t possible, but at least busy doing something else. Like look as if he was agonizing over a decision made, knowing it was the correct one, despite the very strong urge to listen in.  _So many answers_. However, this was personal, private, and she didn’t know about the wire. This was for her to tell him and Christoph in person, to their faces, willingly or not at all.

The merc drummed his fingers on the laminate table and pulled out his cell phone. In barely one ring, the line picked up. “Hi Blondie.”

“ _Is she running?_ ” Christoph sounded resigned.

The black man chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, she bucked up and is now sitting down, spilling her guts to her sister.”

A gust of a breath. “ _Painful,_ ” his lover said knowingly.

“No shit.” Svorak spared a smile as the waitress brought over the beer he had ordered. No whiskey while on shift. “Hey, wanna get dinner sometime?”

Over at the ‘family meeting’, Lucy sat back, frowning. “Then what…?”

“The rule of three,” Arana replied softly. “Karma. Do a deed wrong, and thou shalt receive punishment threefold.” She reached up, rubbing her eye with the bottom of her palm. “Lucille died during childbirth. The baby suffocated in the womb-”

“And you were forced into immortality,” Lucy breathed.

“No.” The three with her blinked, and Arana smiled wryly. “That’s not  _really_  the curse…”

“ _Does it include chocolate syrup_?” Christoph asked silkily. Svorak smiled as he took a swallow of his drink, feeling the cool slide of the brew down his throat.

“What’s the curse?” Ember blurted, blinking.

“‘Eternal death’,” Arana replied, and Lucy blinked hard.

The group was quiet for a long time, each falling into thought. The waitress came to give them refills on their drinks (none of them had ordered food, except Arana; Dari ordered her a steak), and left. Lucy shook her head. “So… I’m… what, Lucille’s reincarnation or something?” she asked, understandably skeptical.

“I guess,” Arana muttered on a gusty sigh.

She picked up her fork and poked at the untouched steak before her. It had been sitting there for nearly ten minutes. Dari abruptly jerked the plate over to him and started cutting the steak up with a knife. Then he pushed it back, keeping the knife away from her.

“And no one noticed?” Lucy asked suddenly.

Ember blinked. “What?” Sometimes it was incredibly hard to follow the blonde’s trail of thought.

“The murders,” Lucy said. “I was thinking that this is so unreal and-”

“Jack the Ripper,” Dari drawled.

“… oh.” The blonde blinked a couple times at Arana. “…  _oh_.”

The woman across the table from her nodded, not looking at her as she reluctantly put a bite of steak in her mouth. Why did it taste like sandpaper? “Yes. That’s what they called me. People got all excited about it, but no one did much. Sure, they had people out looking… but no one tried overly hard. The women were only whores to them, people that didn’t matter.” She frowned. “They meant less than the orphans.”

“Aah, steak. Thank you.” Several tables away, Svorak thanked the waitress. “Goldie, I got dead cow in front of me, I’ll talk to you later. Love and kisses!”

Laughter rang over the line. “ _Wow, must be good meat_ ,” the chemist mused.

“So.” Lucy stared at Arana. “What now? What do you expect out of me?” she asked, and winced when Ember elbowed her not-so-subtly. “Ow! Why’d you do that?!”

Ember scowled at her. “Empathy, you wannabe sociopath. Empathy.” She frowned, sighed and turned her attention back to Arana. “My name is Amaya.” She jerked her thumb to indicate the blonde. “And as you know, this is Lucy. Not Lucille. Just Lucy.”

The brunette’s gaze softened. “Elizabeth. But I go by Arana these days.”

Dari coughed. “I’m Dari…?” he asked more than said.

“What do you  _mean_ , empathy?” Lucy interrupted, ignoring everyone else to glower at the redhead beside her.

“She just told you her life story, and you asked her what she  _wanted_  out of it?”

“We don’t know she was telling the truth!”

“Look at her. You have all the proof, idiot.”

Lucy’s head whipped around so fast it was a wonder she didn’t get whip-lash. She glared at Arana for several tense minutes, before she sat back. “I shot you twice.” It wasn’t a question, and Arana didn’t bother answering it. “I know they were both fatal; I’m a damn good shot.”

“It hurt, if that helps,” Arana replied softly.

“No. My question still stands. What do you want?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t want anything,” Arana replied bluntly. Then she shook her head. “No. I’m lying. I do… want…” She sighed. “But it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask.”

“And that stopped you before, being fair,” Lucy pointed out.

A wry smile was her only answer. At least, until Dari pinched her. The brunette started and scowled at him, receiving an innocent blink. She sighed. “I want my sister back.”

Lucy blinked at her, for once drawing a blank. She had no answer, no come-back for that. The longing in the other woman’s voice quashed all thoughts of being nasty in response. “But I don’t know you.” It was just… said. Not really an objection, or a reason. Just… words.

Arana smiled faintly, hopefully. “You can get to know me.”

Several hours later, Christoph picked up the phone again, this time smiling.

“ _Goldie_ …” His boyfriend sounded pained.

Taking the call into the kitchen, the blond chuckled as he smiled at the few other mercenaries at the long table. “Yes, Tiger?” Several eyes locked onto him as Svorak’s codename left his lips. Christoph waved them to relax. “What’s up?” If it were an emergency, the man would be using the wire.

“ _Look, I understand that they are girls–_ ” Blond brows arched up and the grinning man quickly hit the speakerphone button, placing the cell in the middle of the table. The others leaned forward. “– _but shit, do they really have to talk this much_?  _Is it genetic? Blame the funky chromosome or something?_ ”

Ruby’s expression was priceless. Medic just looked amused.

“Svorak…” Holding in laughter made Christoph’s gut hurt, so he didn’t have a problem with letting it out. It took a few seconds, but eventually he had himself under control. By that time, so had Ruby. “Are you drunk?”

“ _Nooo_ ,” the man drawled. The good doctor snorted. There was a beat of silence. When Svorak spoke again, he sounded a little more sober. “ _Okay, probably, but not drunk enough to miss that. Speakerphone? Really? Aw, fuck. Is she there?_ ”

The glare the sniper had levelled on the tiny gadget of the latest communication didn’t change.

“ _I’ll take the killing silence as a yes. Anyway, the two of them are going at it with words, some of it’s rough, but most of it seems promising. I need someone to switch with me. I’m not drunk enough for this_.” The merc at the restaurant turned up the charm. “ _Hey Ruby. Want girl time? Chat about fashion? Boyfriends? Admirers?_ Mengyao _?_ ”

Christoph leaned away from the tiny female as her eyebrow twitched. “Er, Tiger…”

There was a sigh from the kitchen doorway. “I think I felt the world tremble,” Simon said dryly, eyes on his partner. When she refocused her ire on him, Wolf held up his hands. “I’ll get the car?”

“ _Perfect! I’ll see you soon then. Later_.” Svorak hung up.

Grunting, Medic shook his head and shared a wry glance with the chemist as Ruby stalked from the room.


	33. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this world, there are so few people who really matter. Frankly, it's amazing you meet them at all.

The door closed behind Arana with a quiet  _snick_. Eventually, Amaya had left after almost falling asleep at the table, and then Wolf and Ruby had switched out with Svorak later in the night. Dari had remained up with Arana and Lucy, boredly doodling on napkins or listening in for interchanging periods of time.

Eventually, the blonde herself said that they would meet again soon, and departed. So Arana, Dari and Svorak had gone home.  _After_  getting home, though, and watching them both go crash elsewhere, Arana had slipped out again for a walk.

She returned alone, had stayed alone, but her thoughts were still going. She almost walked  _right_  past her Christoph. But stopped and turned, smiling slightly. “Hey. Hope you’re not missing sleep,” she said. Everyone else was out or gone after all.

Giving a slight shake of the head, the blond chemist smiled and offered her an arm, chiding gently, “My sleep schedule is eccentric, you know that.”

She accepted his arm, but rather than walk, leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Can I tell you something?”

“Is this going to take hours?” he teased, pulling his arm out from between them only to wrap around her shoulders. “If so, there are couches and brandy available.”

“Both sound lovely,” she mumbled, but her fingers clung to his shirt, face hidden from view by a fall of hair. She swallowed. “Um, nevermind. I think I just need to sit down.”

Instead of moving towards the living room, the tall man pulled her in completely, the other arm coming up to circle around her back. “Lady…” he sighed, breath ghosting warm over her crown. “You’ve already had one very long discussion. Don’t feel like you owe me one. I can wait.”

She chuckled; the sound was slightly watery. “Yeah. Let’s sit down.” She drew a deep breath, pulling back. “Please.” Without waiting for a response, she turned around and hurried into the living room, wiping at her eyes with a sleeve ( _Stupid, stop crying. What are you, twelve?_ ).

Sighing, Christoph brought his deserted arms around to clasp behind at his own back. _This doesn’t look good_ , he thought as the woman so many of them circled their lives around moved away with uncanny grace.

He could almost hear his lover swearing in his head. Crying women made the black man twitch. Add in Lady and the man started looking for someone to put bullets into.  _What happens if there is no one to blame?_  With that worried thought, the chemist drifted over to Arana as she took a seat.

“Sit,” she said when he hesitated. She patted the seat beside her.

The man took the proffered seat, folding his hands into his lap with a resolute expression. “Ready when you are.”

She nodded and pursed her lips. “My name is Elizabeth,” she said quietly, after a moment had passed. “Elizabeth Aranabella Watson. I know my name itself is irrelevant, but… it’s my starting place. I was born in March of 1867, which would make me 21 in the beginning of 1888. That’s when I approached the Undertaker, a man name Rudolf… That’s when I became Jack the Ripper.”

When she paused, Christoph took a breath. As her eyes came up, he gave her a small smile. “That’s a heavy title,” he murmured and as if that were a signal, Lady began to talk, spinning out a story that spanned a century and a half.

Death, pain, long strings of empty nights and emptier dreams. Arana opened the pages of her personal history book and read it out to him. It did take hours and through it, the blond man sat quietly uttering few words. A few times, when the emotions swirled too close to the surface and she faltered, he would open his arms in silence, because he could not  _not_ offer such a small comfort. Occasionally, Lady would rally and push on, a soft smile for his efforts, other times they would cling to each other as needed, wanted, wished.

The others of their strange family drifted by the doorway at random times, nodding or giving a short wave to the occupants, but they stayed respectfully away. Only Medic had stomped in twice from the hall: once to shove glasses of water into both of their hands, the second time to bring them a pitcher. He muttered about proper hydration before turning and stalking straight out again. Arana had smiled.

And finally, she finished. “And then… I met the two of you. Ironically the best thing that has ever happened to me.” She sighed. “I want you to tell Svorak, Christoph. I knew it would be hard to talk about twice in a row, and I know how bad he feels when I get emotional and weepy, so I didn’t want to put him through the discomfort. Can you do that for me?”

Could he ever deny her? “I would be worried now, at how tightly you have me wound about your little fingers if I didn’t already realize that years ago,” he told her wryly. “Yes, I will tell him. Though I think he will be demanding whiskey.” The two glasses stood empty on the side table.

She smiled at that. “Thank you, angel-face. Very much.” She gave him a last hug before sighing. “I should probably eat now.”

He stood with her, wincing at the way his back cracked in three places. “Food would be an amazing thing right about now,” Christoph agreed, stretching. He looked down at himself and laughed quietly at the mess; the dark green shirt he wore was wrinkled and spotted in places, the top two buttons undone.

There was a knock at the doorway, a familiar voice calling out. “Medic wanted to know the moment you two were done chatting.” Calm red eyes flickered between the two of them. “Are you?”

When Christoph nodded, she returned it. “There is fruit, cheese, and bread in the kitchen. A ‘proper’ breakfast will be ready in fifteen.  _Don’t_ skip it.” As silently as she had appeared, Ruby vanished down the hall.

Amused, the chemist turned to look at Lady. “Somehow, I get the feeling that Medic is training her, both in mannerisms and practice.”

Arana smirked. “He has his work cut out for him.”

“Or maybe it just has to do with you,” he replied smoothly, swinging his arm out wide in an age-old gesture. “Ladies first.”  _We all care, Arana. In one way or another, we all do_.


	34. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young love, sun shine, and a peculiar lack of coffee for being set at a cafe...

That late in the day, when the afternoon rush was over and the cubicle slaves gone home, sunlight painted the world in shades of orange and red. The streets were mostly quiet, empty pop cans and drifting newspapers littering the streets.

Ngai Mun stepped over a puddle and noted that the clouds had finally parted letting through the light. It had been raining non-stop for nearly a week. Medic had been pacing back and forth, driving her quietly insane. He hadn’t liked the way the roof leaked into the bedroom below. She hadn’t liked how she and Simon were stuck behind listening to him rant as the others went out on a mission that didn’t necessitate a sniper. Bodyguard work. For Mengyao. She’d pick the doc over that flirtatious scumbag any day.

The glass front of the cafe was the same, clean with modest white lettering for a boastful name on the windows,  _Helluva Cup Café_. Her cousin had laughed when she had first seen it. Story was, Syd had marched straight in and demanded a job because having that name on her resume should be a life’s goal. Lydia, the manager on shift, had laughed right back at her and told her no. The next day, the brown-eyed girl had shown up again, with her hair dyed from blue to forest green, her resume and cover letter in hand, and decent shoes. The same manager hired her on the spot.

The door chimed as Ruby stepped through and her red eyes landed on dark chocolate brown before finding the warm brown ones behind the counter. Not that it was a surprise, since Kai was a stalker. He said it was only in Sydney’s case, but the redhead had doubts.

Once a stalker, always a stalker. If, and even she had to admit it wasn’t likely, some other girl caught the Japanese man’s fancy and he left Syd in tears, the guy was going to find a hole between the brows. Maybe one through the kneecap first, just to let him know what was coming. It was the decent thing to do.

But enough with the morbid thoughts, her cousin had seen her.

“Ruby!”

“Sydney,” the redhead said back with a smile. Family was a wonderful thing to have. They were the only ones she could truly relax around.

“How are things?” Her cousin darted around the counter and moved in for a hug as Simon stepped through the entrance, darting to the side and giving the two girls a wide berth.

Ruby rolled her eyes, and accepted the embrace. “Boring,” she grumbled. “Tedious. Think cabin fever and rabies all locked into the same rickety house while insisting that it was the only sane thing in the country.”

From the side Wolf snorted and sat down next to Kai, nodding hello.

Laughing, Xia Fu pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “Psychosis and illness. You’re talking about Medic.”

The tiny woman snorted. “I’m forming habits. How annoying.”

Kai blinked at the women, tilting his head very slightly. “They’re both red today.” Though Sydney’s was a much darker shade (and he sort of preferred it). He looked at the American near him, and smiled. “How is Arana- _sama_?” he asked pleasantly.

Lifting a brow, Simon smirked. “Nice to see you too.” Watching as the Japanese guy blinked and flushed a bright crimson, the young mercenary let his expression slide into a real smile. “She’s happier now. Met her sister. Been a long time, so lots to catch up on.”

Kai nodded. “Erm… and you?” he asked sheepishly.

“Never better,” the man in the grey hoodie responded shrugging one shoulder. Though that was a blatant lie.

There had been another request from the Triad’s last week. Baba had been eating breakfast when the call came in. It was all normal until the glance at the screen went to Wolf next. When Simon had looked back, Christoph was already walking out the door before picking up the call. Didn’t take a genius to know why he and Ruby had been left behind with Medic.

The male witch shifted at the silence that fell, and broke it when it became unbearable (about a minute and a half later). “Erm, good. Yes…” He nodded. “Uh… you said Arana- _sama_  met her sister?” It was obvious he was trying to find something to talk about.

“Yep.”

“Right…” Dark eyes lowered, to find his own hand tapping. He abruptly stopped. “Um. And she’s happy. That’s good. Happiness. And stuff. Long time and all. How long?”

Grey eyes shifted over from watching the two redheads chatter in that fluting Asian dialect like a pair of magpies over a shiny button to the spiky-haired goth who liked to follow his girlfriend’s cousin around like a kicked puppy who had smelled pepperoni. “How about I ask a question first: how come you’re asking about Arana?”

 _Blink, blink_. Kai flushed as several reasons flickered through his mind, and he realized  _that ecchi thing_  must be what the merc was referring to. “Oh!  _Oh!_  N-no! It’s- I just- she’s- Master! Master!” he yelped squeakily, the nice shade of a ripe tomato. “Like a Master! ‘Cause- oh dear, no, not like– I’mgoingtoshutupnowbeforeGarygetsafreakyvibeandcomestokillme.” He sank down into his chair, covering his face with both hands.

Simon smirked picking out the one name Kai didn’t want him to hear. “Hey, I like Gary. He’s a great guy. I should call him up. See how he is.” He looked out the window, gaze sweeping the front one more time. “He’ll probably want to know how I’m doing of course.” So Kai wasn’t thinking to jump stalkees. Good to know.

“Gary?” One of the redheads looked over. The other one blinked, then shared an amused look with her partner as the one male witch paled. “What about him?”

Ruby tilted her head, giving Kai a wicked grin. “I haven’t seen that gladiator for a while. How’s he doing? I heard you and him have been… talking.”

Kai winced. “Sydney _-chan wa watashi ga kare o korosu shitaku wanaideshou. Korosu tame ni shōdō ni teikō shinakereba naranai,_ ” he mumbled under his breath, and shivered. “Gary-san is… terrifying…”

“ _Ko-ro… su_?” Warm brown eyes narrowed on him as Syd tried to process what just left her boyfriend’s lips.

The two mercenaries meanwhile were snickering, the sniper going over to the demolition man, kissing him on the cheek before leaning against his shoulder. Simon just smiled and wrapped an arm around her tiny waist.

“Kai!” Apparently, the other girl had figured out what he had said.

He yelped and jumped up. “ _Īya koroshimasen! Watashi wa yakusoku shimasu!_ ” he said quickly. “I swear! None!”

Whatever he had said made his irate girlfriend laugh.

Frowning, and a little annoyed at being left out, Ruby asked the question in Mandarin, “ _What did he say_?” Beside her Wolf murmured in quiet protest. He didn’t like being out of the loop either, but he sighed and hugged her tighter when she squeezed his shoulder. She would tell him later.

Her cousin smiled widely at her witch as she answered in the same language. “ _Something about killing my gladiator, but abstaining because I would get pissed. At least, that better be what he said. I only caught the ‘Sydney, him, not kill’. Since I’m pretty sure Kai isn’t talking about your Simon, I’m assuming he’s talking about my Gary._ ” Her smile grew teeth and finished in English. “But he says he wouldn’t do that.”

“ _Shimatta_ ,” Kai squeaked, already edging toward the door. “Sydney- _chan_ …” He gave her a heartbroken look. Big, wide, hurt eyes. Crestfallen expression. Slightly tilted head.

Ignoring the two wolf grins on the two guests, Sydney shook her head at him. “Oh, get over here. I’m not mad. Uhm…  _A-shi-teru wa_.” Giving him a hesitant look, the woman frowned. “ _Neh_?”

A wide, smitten grin spread over his face, a light blush quickly following. “ _ **Ai**_ _-shi-teru_ ,” he corrected gently, even as he skirted the reach of the other two and stepped over. “ _Watashi wa… iiya. Aishiteru wa_. Sydney- _chan_.”

“And thank goodness for that,” she said with a bright grin, dragging him into a hug. “We’re teasing silly. You still think I’d get mad of that?”

Meanwhile Wolf was showing Ruby his cell phone and the red-eyed mercenary was trying not to laugh. He had managed to sneak a picture of a pink-cheeked Kai. She couldn’t decide whether to hug her partner or slug him for the audacity.  _Ah, to hell with it._  She hugged him.

The Japanese man hung his head, resting his forehead on Sydney’s shoulder. “I’m sorry…”

One of her hands came up and lightly tapped him on the back of the head. She mumbled and stuttered something into the cotton of his black sweater.

“Mm?”

Taking a deep breath, she moved back an inch, but kept her eyes on his chest.  _She was blushing_! “ _Mōshi-wa-ka_ …  _ari-masen. Watashi wa… anata… ai…shi-teru wa_ , no, not  _wa_. Uhm… Damnit.  _Shi… awa-se? Ni. Naru_. No, yes.  _Naru_. I think?” Syd thunked her forehead back on his collarbone, grumbling, “This is so hard without the words on paper.”

He was grinning as he leaned over, whispering into her ear. “ _Watashi wa motto manzoku shite koto wa arimasen_. I could not be more satisfied.”

“I ask for happiness, didn’t I?” Syd turned her face up to his, a frown puckering her brows. “I think, I used the right word. ‘Satisfaction’ isn’t happiness.”

He smirked. “Same meaning,” he replied. “ _When_  did you say you got off? I have to prove the happiness, don’t I?”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and he had only half a second to whip around, throw out his arms and suck in a breath- … before he was tackled by a blur of yellow and a happy cry of, “ _ANIIIKIII!_ ”

Once Syd got over her shock, she burst out laughing and joined the two mercenaries in bringing out her phone and taking pictures. Only, she made sure to take video footage too.

xXx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Bloody Woman!
> 
> Up next, Phantom Pain!  
> (Okay, so there may be a few drabbles before then...)

**Author's Note:**

> This is ours, Lost and me. All ours. No copying, no reposting, no... money was made on this either (yet).  
> If you wanna add to the 'verse, leave a message in the reviews and we'll reply. We're not unreasonable, just rather territorial.


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